Clear the Track for Michael's Magic Train

First | Previous | Next | Last | Book Index

Clear the Track for Michael's Magic Train

One day as we were quietly sitting, I reading my paper and Patty doing her knitting,

   Author:  Louis Slobodkin
Copyright Date:  1945
Publisher:  Macmillan
Pagination:  44 p.
Dedication:  to
Michael’s Big brother
Larry

and Mike riding his bike down the hall, we heard a noise that shook such as I’d us all, a clanging, rattling, RUMBLING ROAR never heard in our house before. Then, around the corner, with a swoosh, came Michael, Riding a big steam ENGINE, not a little bicycle.
It was pulling a long train of cars; in fact, so many
You couldn’t see the end—or if there was any! Said Mike, “What’s wrong?”—as he climbed down
From his engine, and calmly looked around.
Then he gave his caboose a gentle pat.
It had stopped near the armchair where I SAT!

“Come on, get aboard. Time is very short.
Train’s due in Boston at noon, and at one in ROCKPORT,
SANDPORT, BRIDGEPORT, all points south....
SPRINGFIELD, R-a-w-a-a”—strange sounds came from his mouth.
Since time was short, and there was nothing to do,
When he hollered “A-L-L-L aboard,” Pat and I climbed up too.
And Mike mounted his cab, shouting, “Clear the track!”
He told us, before supper he’d bring us back.
Then engineer Mike became Mike the conductor.
“There’s a COW back there and we almost bumped her.”

“TICKETS, tickets, please! Put your baggage up?”
Then he gave us a drink of water from a paper cup,
And took our money and gave us change.
That seemed all right, though it did seem strange
When he’d suddenly leave us in an awful tear
And run forward again—to be the ENGINEER. . . .

First | Previous | Next | Last | Book Index


and Mike riding his bike down the hall, we heard a noise that shook such as I’d us all, a clanging, rattling, RUMBLING ROAR never heard in our house before. Then, around the corner, with a swoosh, came Michael, Riding a big steam ENGINE, not a little bicycle. It was pulling a long train of cars; in fact, so many You couldn’t see the end—or if there was any! Said Mike, “What’s wrong?”—as he climbed down From his engine, and calmly looked around. Then he gave his caboose a gentle pat. It had stopped near the armchair where I SAT!

“Come on, get aboard. Time is very short. Train’s due in Boston at noon, and at one in ROCKPORT, SANDPORT, BRIDGEPORT, all points south.... SPRINGFIELD, R-a-w-a-a”—strange sounds came from his mouth. Since time was short, and there was nothing to do, When he hollered “A-L-L-L aboard,” Pat and I climbed up too. And Mike mounted his cab, shouting, “Clear the track!” He told us, before supper he’d bring us back. Then engineer Mike became Mike the conductor. “There’s a COW back there and we almost bumped her.” “TICKETS, tickets, please! Put your baggage up?” Then he gave us a drink of water from a paper cup, And took our money and gave us change. That seemed all right, though it did seem strange When he’d suddenly leave us in an awful tear And run forward again—to be the ENGINEER. . . .