to him in the present. What did happen was that Jims lost his balance, shot headlong down the steps, hurtled across the little siding platform, and landed in a clump of bracken fern on the other side.
Rilla shricked and lost her head. She sprang down the steps and jumped off the train.
Fortunately, the train was still going at a comparatively slow speed; fortunately also, Rilla retained enough sense to jump the way it was going; nevertheless, she fell and sprawled helplessly down the embankment, landing in a ditch full of a rank growth of golden-rod and fireweed.
Nobody had seen what had happened and the train whisked briskly away around a curve in the barrens. Rilla picked herself up, dizzy but unhurt, scrambled out of the ditch, and flew wildly across the platform, expecting to find Jims dead or broken in pieces. But Jims, except for a few bruises, and a big fright, was quite uninjured. He was so badly scared that he didn't even cry, but Rilla, when she found that he was safe and sound, burst into tears and sobbed wildly.
“Nasty old twain,” remarked Jims in disgust. “And nasty old God,” he added, with a scowl at the heavens.
A laugh broke into Rilla’s sobbing, producing something very like what her father would have called hysterics. But she caught herself up before the hysteria could conquer her.
“Rilla Blythe, I’m ashamed of you. Pull yourself together immediately. Jims, you shouldn’t have said anything like that.”
“God frew me off the twain,” declared Jims de-
