The Railway Children Chapter 11: Bedtime Story

Hello beautiful souls,

This is my reading of The Railway Children by Edith Nesbit, a beautiful story about three children who move from London to the countryside and fall in love with the railway. They face lots of trials and tribulations but have many exciting adventures along the way. This is a heart-warming story of love and resilience. This was one of my most cherished stories as a child.

You can find all the chapters on my profile in the playlist section.

I hope you enjoy this reading of a wonderful classic.

Take care, beloveds.

Transcript

Hello dear ones and welcome to today's reading of The Railway Children where we continue our adventures with Chapter 11.

So make yourself comfortable while we get ready to go on an adventure with the three railway children.

Chapter 11 The Hound in the Red Jersey Bobby knew the secret now.

A sheet of old newspaper wrapped around a parcel.

Just a little chance like that.

And she had to go down to tea and pretend that there was nothing the matter.

The pretense was bravely made but it wasn't very successful.

For when she came in everybody looked up from tea and saw her pink lidded eyes and her pale face with red tear blotches on it.

Oh my darling cried mother jumping up from the tea tray.

Whatever is the matter?

My head aches said Bobby and it did indeed.

Has anything gone wrong?

Mother asked.

I'm all right really said Bobby and she telegraphed her mother from her swollen eyes.

This brief imploring message not before the others.

Tea was not a cheerful meal.

Peter was so distressed by the obvious fact that something horrid had happened to Bobby that he limited his speech to repeating more bread and butter please.

Phyllis stroked her sister's hand under the table to express sympathy and knocked her cup over as she did it.

Fetching a cloth and wiping up the spilt milk helped Bobby a little.

But she thought that tea would never end.

Yet at last it did as all things do at last.

And when mother took out the tray Bobby followed her.

She's gone to own up said Phyllis to Peter.

I wonder what she's done.

Broken something I suppose said Peter but she needn't be so silly over it.

Mother never rows for accidents.

Listen yes they're going upstairs.

She's taking mother up to show her.

The water jug with stalks on it I imagine.

Bobby in the kitchen had caught hold of mother's hand as she set down the tea things.

What is it Bobby?

Mother asked.

But Bobby only said come upstairs.

Come upstairs mother where nobody can hear us.

When she had got mother alone in her room she locked the door and then stood quite still.

And quite without words.

All through tea she had been thinking of what to say.

She had decided that I know all or all is known to me.

Or the terrible secret is a secret no longer would be the proper thing to say.

But now that she and her mother and that awful sheet of newspaper were alone in the room together.

She found that she could say nothing at all.

Suddenly she went to mother and put her arms around her and began to cry again.

And still she could find no words only oh mommy oh mommy oh mommy over and over again.

Mother held her clothes and waited.

Suddenly Bobby broke away from her and went to her bed.

From under the mattress she pulled out the paper she had hidden there and held it out pointing to her father's name with a finger that shook.

Oh Bobby mother cried when one little quick look had shown her what it was.

You don't believe it do you?

You don't believe daddy did it?

No Bobby almost shouted.

She had stopped crying.

That's all right then said mother it's not true and they've shut him up in prison and he has done nothing wrong Bobby.

He's good and noble and honourable and he belongs to us.

We have to think of that and be proud of him and wait.

Again Bobby clung to her mother and again only one word came to her but now that word was daddy and oh daddy oh daddy oh daddy again and again and again.

Why didn't you tell me mommy?

She asked.

Are you going to tell the others Bobby?

Mother asked.

No.

Why?

Because.

Exactly said mother.

So you understand why I didn't tell you.

We too must help each other to be brave.

Yes said Bobby.

Mother will it make you more unhappy if you tell me all about it?

I want to understand.

So then sitting cuddled up close to her mother Bobby heard all about it.

She heard how those men who had asked to see her father on that remembered last night when the engine was being mended had come to arrest him charging him with selling state secrets to the Russians with being in fact a spy and a traitor.

She heard about the trial and about the evidence.

Letters found in father's desk at the office.

Letters that convinced the jury that father was guilty.

Oh how could they look at him and believe it?

Cried Bobby.

And how could anyone do such a thing?

Someone did it said mother and all the evidence was against father.

Those letters yes but how did they get into his desk?

Someone put them in there and the person who put them in there was the person who was really guilty Bobby.

Well he must be feeling pretty awful all this time said Bobby.

I don't believe he had any feelings said mother.

He couldn't have done a thing like that if he had.

Perhaps he just shoved the letters into the desk to hide them when he thought he was going to be found out.

Why don't you tell the lawyers or someone that it must have been that person?

There wasn't anyone that would have hurt father on purpose was there?

I don't know Bobby.

I don't know.

The man under him who got daddy's place when he,

When the awful thing happened.

He was always jealous of your father because daddy was so clever and everyone thought such a lot of him and daddy never quite trusted that man.

Couldn't we explain all that to someone?

Nobody will listen said mother.

Nobody at all.

Do you suppose I've not tried everything no my dearest.

There's nothing to be done.

All we can do you and I and daddy is to be brave and patient and to pray Bobby dear.

To pray.

Mother you've got very thin said Bobby.

A little perhaps.

I do think you're the bravest person in the world as well as the nicest said Bobby.

We won't talk of all this anymore will we dear?

We must bear it and be brave and darling try not to think of it.

It's much easier for me if you can be a little bit happy and enjoy things.

Wash your poor little round face and let's go out into the garden for a bit.

The other two were very gentle and kind to Bobby and they did not ask her what was the matter.

This was Peter's idea and he had drilled Phyllis who would have asked a hundred questions if she had been left to herself.

A week later Bobby managed to get away alone and once more she wrote a letter and once more it was to the old gentleman.

My dear friend you see what is in this paper.

It is not true.

Father never did it.

Mother says someone put the papers in father's desk and she says the man under him that got father's place afterwards was very jealous of father and that father suspected him a long time.

But nobody listens to a word she says.

But you,

You are so good and clever and you found out about the Russian gentleman's wife directly.

Can't you find out who did the treason?

Because it wasn't father.

He is an Englishman and incapable to do such things and then they might let father out of prison.

It's dreadful and mother is getting so thin.

She told us once to pray for all prisoners and captives.

I see now.

Oh do help me.

There's only just mother and me now and we can't do anything.

Peter and Phil don't know.

I'll pray for you twice every day as long as I live if you'll only try.

Just try to find out.

Think if it was your daddy what you would feel.

Oh please do help me.

With love.

I remain your affectionately little friend Roberta.

P.

S.

Mother would send her kind regards if she knew I was writing.

But it is no use telling her I am in case you can't do anything.

But I know you will.

Bobby.

With best love.

She cut the account of her father's trial out of the newspaper with mother's big cutting out scissors and put it in the envelope with her letter.

Then she took it down to the station going out the back way and round by the road so that the others should not see her and offer to come with her.

And she gave the letter to the station master to give to the old gentleman next morning.

Where have you been?

Shouted Peter from the top of the yard wall where he and Phyllis were.

To the station of course said Bobby.

Give us a hand Pete.

She set her foot on the lock of the yard door and Peter reached down a hand.

What on earth she asked as she reached the wall top.

For Phyllis and Peter were very very muddy.

A lump of wet clay lay between them on the wall.

They had each a slip of slate in a very dirty hand and behind Peter out of the reach of accidents were several strange rounded objects rather like very fat sausages hollow but closed up at one end.

They're nests said Peter.

Swallows nests.

We're going to dry them in the oven and hang them up with string under the eaves of the coach house.

Yes said Phyllis and then we're going to save up all the wool and hair that we can get and in the spring we'll line them and then how pleased the swallows will be.

I've often thought people don't do nearly enough for dumb animals said Peter with an air of virtue.

I do think people might have thought of making nests for poor little swallows before this.

Oh if everybody thought of everything Peter there'd be nothing left for anybody else to think about said Bobby.

Look at the nests Bobby aren't they pretty said Phyllis reaching across Peter to grasp a nest.

Look out Phil you goat said her brother but it was too late.

Her strong little fingers had crushed the nest.

There now said Peter.

Never mind said Bobby.

It is one of my own said Phyllis.

So you needn't jaw Pete.

Yes we've put our initial names on the ones that we've done so that the swallows will know who they've got to be grateful and fond of.

Swallows can't read silly said Peter.

Silly yourself retorted Phyllis.

How do you know?

Who thought of making the nests anyhow?

I did said Phyllis.

You only thought of making hay ones and sticking them in the ivy for the sparrows and they'd have been sopping long before egg laying time.

It was me that said clay and swallows.

I don't care what you said said Phyllis.

Look said Bobby.

I've made the nest alright again.

Give me the bit of stick to mark your initial name on it.

But how can you?

Your letter and Peter's are the same.

P.

P for Peter.

P for Phyllis.

I put F for Phyllis said the child of that name because that's how it sounds.

The swallows wouldn't spell Phyllis with a P.

I'm certain for sure.

They can't spell at all silly.

Peter was still insisting.

Then why do you always see them on Christmas cards and Valentines with letters around their neck?

How would they know where to go if they couldn't read?

That's only in pictures.

You never saw one really with letters around its neck.

Well I have a pigeon then.

At least Daddy told me they did.

Only it was under their wings and not round their necks.

But it comes to the same thing.

I say interrupted Bobby.

There's to be a paper chase tomorrow.

Who?

Peter asked.

Grammar school.

Perks thinks the hare will go along by the lion at first.

We might go along the cutting.

You can see a long way from there.

The paper chase was found to be a more amusing subject of conversation than the reading powers of swallows.

Bobby had hoped it might be.

And next morning Mother let them take their lunch and go out for the day to see the paper chase.

If we go to the cutting said Peter we shall see the workmen even if we miss the paper chase.

Of course it had taken some time to get the line clear from the rocks and earth and trees that had fallen on it when the great landslip happened.

That was the occasion you will remember when the three children saved the train from being wrecked by waving six little red flannel petticoat flags.

It is always interesting to watch people working especially when they work with such interesting things as spades and picks and shovels and planks and barrows.

When they have cindery red fires in iron pots with round holes in them and red lamps hanging near the works at night.

Of course the children were never out at night but once at dusk when Peter had got out of his bedroom skylight onto the roof he had seen the red lamp shining far away at the edge of the cutting.

The children had often been down to watch the work and this day the interest of picks and spades and barrows wheeled along planks completely put the paper chase out of their heads so that they quite jumped when a voice just behind them panted,

Let me pass please.

It was the Hare,

A big boned loose limbed boy with dark hair lying flat on a very damp forehead.

The bag of torn paper under his arm was fastened across one shoulder by a strap.

The children stood back.

The Hare ran along the line and the workmen leaned on their picks to watch him.

He ran on steadily and disappeared into the mouth of the tunnel.

That's against the bylaws said the foreman.

Why worry said the oldest workman.

Live and let live's what I always say.

Ain't you been young yourself Mr Bates?

I ought to report him said the foreman.

Why spoil sports what I always say.

Passengers are forbidden to cross the line on any pretense.

He ain't no passenger said one of the workmen.

Nor he ain't crossed the line,

Not where we could see him do it.

Nor he ain't made no pretense either said a third.

And said the oldest workman.

He's out of sight now.

What the eye don't see the art ain't need take notice of is what I always say.

But now following the track of the Hare by the little white blocks of scattered paper came the hounds.

There were 30 of them and they all came down the steep ladder like steps by ones and twos and threes and sixes.

Bobby and Phyllis and Peter counted them as they passed.

The foremost ones hesitated a moment at the foot of the ladder.

Then their eyes caught the gleam of scattered whiteness along the line and they turned towards the tunnel and by ones and twos and threes and sixes disappeared into the dark mouth of it.

The last one in a red jersey seemed to be extinguished by the darkness like a candle that is blown out.

They don't know what they're in for said the foreman.

It isn't so easy running in the dark.

The tunnel takes two or three turns.

They'll take a long time to get through do you think?

Peter asked.

An hour more I shouldn't wonder.

Then let's cut across the top and see them come out at the other end said Peter.

We shall get there long before they do.

The council seemed good and so they went.

They climbed the steep steps from which they had picked the wild cherry blossom for the grave of the little wild rabbit and reaching the top of the cutting set their faces towards the hill through which the tunnel was cut.

It was stiff work.

It's like climbing the Alps said Bobby breathlessly or the Andes said Peter.

It's like hear me what's its name gas Phyllis.

Mount Mount Everlasting.

Two let's stop.

Come on stick to it panted Peter.

You'll get your second wind in a minute.

Phyllis consented to stick it and on they went running when the turf was smooth and the slope easy.

Climbing over stones helping themselves up rocks by the branches of trees.

Creeping through narrow openings between tree trunks and rocks and so on and on and up and up until at last they stood on the very top of the hill where they had so often wished to be.

Halt cried Peter and threw himself flat on the grass for the very top of the hill was a smooth turfed table land dotted with mossy rocks and little mountain ash trees.

The girls also threw themselves down flat.

Plenty of time Peter panted the rests all downhill.

When they were rested enough to sit up and look around them Bobby cried.

Oh look what art said Phyllis.

The view said Bobby.

I hate views said Phyllis.

Don't you Peter.

Come on let's get on said Peter.

But this isn't like a view they take you to in carriages when you're at the seaside all sea and sand and bare hills.

It's like the coloured counties in one of mother's poetry books.

It's not so dusty said Peter.

Look at the aqueduct straddling slap across the valley like a giant centipede and then the town's church spires sticking up out of the trees like pens out of an inkstand.

I think it's more like there could we see the banners of twelve fair cities shine.

I love it said Bobby.

It's worth the climb.

The paper chase is worth the climb said Phyllis.

If we don't lose it let's get on.

It's all downhill now.

I said that 10 minutes ago said Peter.

Well I've said it now said Phyllis.

Come on.

Loads of time said Peter.

And there was.

For when they had got down to a level with the top of the tunnel's mouth they were a couple of hundred yards out of their reckoning and had to creep along the face of the hill.

There was no sign of the hare or the hounds.

They've gone a long time ago of course said Phyllis as they leaned on the brick parapet above the tunnel.

I don't think so said Bobby.

But even if they had it's ripping here and we shall see the trains come out of the tunnel like dragons out of layers.

We've never seen that before from the top side.

No more we have said Phyllis partially appeased.

It was really a most exciting place to be.

The top of the tunnel seemed ever so much farther from the line than they had expected and it was like being on a bridge but a bridge overgrown with bushes and creepers and grass and wild flowers.

I know the paper chase has gone long ago said Phyllis every two minutes and she hardly knew whether she was pleased or disappointed when Peter leaning over the parapet suddenly cried look out here he comes.

They all leaned over the sun warmed brick wall in time to see the hare going very slowly come out from the shadow of the tunnel.

There now said Peter what did I tell you now for the hounds.

Very soon came the hounds by ones and twos and threes and sixes and they also were going slowly and seemed very tired.

Two or three who lagged far behind came out long after the others.

There said Bobby that's all now what shall we do go along into the toggy wood over there and have lunch said Phyllis.

We can see them for miles from up there.

Not yet said Peter that's not the last there's the one in the red jersey to see he's got to come out yet.

But though they waited and waited and waited the boy in the red jersey did not appear.

Oh let's have lunch said Phyllis I've got a pain in my front with being so hungry you must have missed seeing the red jerseyed one when he came out with the others Peter.

But Bobby and Peter agreed that he had not come out with the others.

Let's go down into the tunnel mouth then perhaps we shall see him coming along from the inside.

I expect he felt spun chuck and rested in one of the manholes.

You stay up here and watch Bob and when I signal from below you come down.

We might miss seeing him on the way down with all these trees.

So the others climbed down and Bobby waited till they signaled to her from the line below and then she too scrambled down the roundabout slippery path among roots and moss until she stepped out between two dogwood trees and joined the others on the line and still there was no sign of the hound with the red jersey.

Oh do do do let's have something to eat wailed Phyllis.

I shall die if you don't and then you'll be sorry.

I'll give her the sandwiches for goodness sake and stop her silly mouth said Peter.

Not quite unkindly.

Look here he added turning to Bobby.

Perhaps we'd better have one each too.

We may need all our strength.

Not more than one though.

There's no time.

What for asked Bobby.

Her mouth already full for she was just as hungry as Phyllis.

Don't you see replied Peter impressively that red jerseyed hound has had an accident.

That's what it is.

Perhaps even as we speak he's lying with his head on the metals an unresisting prey to any passing express.

Oh don't talk like that cried Bobby bolting what was left of her sandwich.

Come on Phil keep close behind me.

If a train comes stand flat against the tunnel wall and hold your petticoats close to you.

Give me one more sandwich pleaded Phyllis and I will.

I'm going first said Peter.

It was my idea.

And off he went.

Of course you know what going into a tunnel is like.

The engine gives a scream and then suddenly the noise of the running rattling train changes and grows different and much louder.

Grown up people always pull the windows and hold them by the strap.

The railway carriage suddenly grows like night with lamps of course unless you are in a slow local train in which case lamps are not always provided.

Then by and by the darkness outside the carriage window is touched by puffs of cloudy whiteness.

Then you see a blue light on the walls of the tunnel.

Then the sound of the moving train changes once more and you are out in the open good air again and grown ups let the straps go.

The windows all dim with the yellow breath of the tunnel rattled down into their places and you see once more the dip and catch of the telegraph wires beside the line and the straight cut hawthorn hedges with the tiny baby trees growing up out of them every 30 yards.

All this of course is what a tunnel means when you are in a train.

But everything is quite different when you walk into a tunnel on your own feet and tread on shifting sliding stones and gravel on a path that curves downwards from the shining metal to the wall.

Then you see slimy oozy trinkets of water running down the inside of the tunnel and you notice that the bricks are not red or brown as they are at the tunnel's mouth but dull sticky sickly green.

Your voice when you speak is quite changed from what it was out in the sunshine and it is a long time before the tunnel is quite dark.

It was not yet quite dark in the tunnel when Phyllis caught at Bobby's skirt ripping out half a yard of gothers but no one noticed this at the time.

I want to go back she said.

I don't like it Bobby it'll be pitch dark in a minute.

I won't go on in the dark I don't care what you say I won't.

Don't be a silly cuckoo said Peter.

I've got a candle end and matches.

What's that?

That was a low humming sound on the railway line a trembling of the wires beside it a buzzing humming sound that grew louder and louder as they listened.

It's a train said Bobby.

Which line?

Let me go back cried Phyllis struggling to get away from the hand by which Bobby held her.

Don't be a coward Phil said Bobby it's quite safe just stand back.

Come on shouted Peter who was a few yards ahead quick manhole.

The roar of the advancing train was now louder than the noise you hear when your head is under water in the bath and both the taps are running and you are kicking with your heels against the bath's tin sides.

But Peter had shouted for all he was worth and Bobby heard him.

She dragged Phyllis along to the manhole.

Phyllis of course stumbled over the wires and grazed both her legs but they dragged her in and all three stood in the dark damp arch recess while the train roared louder and louder.

It seemed as if it would deafen them and in the distance they could see its eyes of fire growing bigger and brighter every instant.

It is a dragon I always knew it was it takes its own shape in here in the dark shouted Phyllis but nobody heard her you see the train was shouting too and its voice was bigger than hers and now with a rush and a roar and a rattle and a long dazzling flash of lighted carriage windows a smell of smoke and a blast of hot air the train hurtled by clanging and jangling and echoing in the vaulted roof of the tunnel.

Phyllis and Bobby clung to each other even Peter caught hold of Bobby's arm in case she should be frightened as he explained afterwards and now slowly and gradually the tail lights grew smaller and smaller and so did the noise till with one last whizz the train got itself out of the tunnel and silence settled again on its damp walls and dripping roof.

Oh said the children all together in a whisper.

Peter was lighting the candle end with a hand that trembled come on he said but he had to clear his throat before he could speak in his natural voice oh said Phyllis if the red jerseyed one was in the way of the train we've got to go and see said Peter couldn't we go and send someone from the station said Phyllis would you rather wait here for us asked Bobby severely and of course that settled the question so the three went on into the deeper darkness of the tunnel Peter led holding his candle end high to light the way the grease ran down his fingers and some of it right up his sleeve he found a long streak from wrist to elbow when he went to bed that night it was not more than 150 yards from the spot where they had stood while the train had gone by that Peter stood still and shouted hello and then went on much quicker than before when the others caught him up he stopped and he stopped within a yard of what they had come into the tunnel to look for Phyllis saw a gleam of red and shut her eyes tight there by the curved pebbly down line was the red jerseyed hound his back was against the wall his arms hung limply by his sides and his eyes were shut was the red blood was the red blood is he killed is he killed asked Phyllis screwing her eyelids more tightly together killed nonsense Phil said Peter there's nothing read about him except his jersey he's only fainted what on earth are we to do can we move him asked Bobby I don't know he's a big chap suppose we bathe his forehead with water no I know we haven't got any but milk's just as well there's a whole bottle yes said Peter and they rub people's hands I believe and they burn feathers I know said Phyllis what is the use of saying that when we haven't any feathers Phil as it happens said Phyllis in a tone of exasperated triumph I've got a shuttlecock in my pocket so there and now Peter rubbed the hands of the red jerseyed one Bobby burned the feathers of the shuttlecock one by one under his nose and Phyllis splashed warmish milk on his forehead and all three kept on saying as fast and as earnest as they could oh look up speak to me for my sake please speak