The locomotive is ready to start.  Can you not hear it?

“Shug-chug!  Shug-chug!  Shug-chug!” That is what the locomotive is saying, all to itself.  It knoweth how pleasant a journey it is about to make.

“Shug-chug!  Shug-chug!  Shug-chug!”

Oh, many a time hath it proudly swept over prairie and hill, over river and plain, through sleeping gardens and drowsy cities, swiftly and quietly, bearing the little ones to the far, pleasant valley where lieth Shut-Eye Town.

“Shug-chug!  Shug-chug!  Shug-chug!”

So sayeth the locomotive to itself at the station in Bedtime-ville; for it knoweth how fair and far a journey is before it.

Then a bell soundeth.  Surely my little one heareth the bell!

“Ting-long!  Ting-a-long!  Ting-long!”

So soundeth the bell, and it seemeth to invite you to sleep and dreams.

“Ting-long!  Ting-a-long!  Ting-long!”

How sweetly ringeth and calleth that bell.

“To sleep—­to dreams, O little lambs!” it seemeth to call.  “Nestle down close, fold your hands, and shut your dear eyes!  We are off and away to Shut-Eye Town!  Ting-long!  Ting-a-long!  Ting-long!  To sleep—­to dreams, O little cosset lambs!”

And now the conductor calleth out in turn.  “All aboard!” he calleth. 
“All aboard for Shut-Eye Town!” he calleth in a kindly tone.

But, hark ye, dear-my-soul, make thou no haste; there is room for all.  Here is a cosey little car for you.  How like your cradle it is, for it is snug and warm, and it rocketh this way and that way, this way and that way, all night long, and its pillows caress you tenderly.  So step into the pretty nest, and in it speed to Shut-Eye Town.

“Toot!  Toot!”

That is the whistle.  It soundeth twice, but it must sound again before the train can start.  Now you have nestled down, and your dear hands are folded; let your two eyes be folded, too, my sweet; for in a moment you shall be rocked away, and away, away into the golden mists of Balow!

“Ting-long!  Ting-a-long!  Ting-long!”

“All aboard!”

“Toot!  Toot!  Toot!”

And so my little golden apple is off and away for Shut-Eye Town!

Slowly moveth the train, yet faster by degrees.  Your hands are folded, my beloved, and your dear eyes they are closed; and yet you see the beauteous sights that skirt the journey through the mists of Balow.  And it is rockaway, rockaway, rockaway, that your speeding cradle goes,—­rockaway, rockaway, rockaway, through the golden glories that lie in the path that leadeth to Shut-Eye Town.

“Toot!  Toot!”

So crieth the whistle, and it is “down-brakes,” for here we are at Ginkville, and every little one knoweth that pleasant waking-place, where mother with her gentle hands holdeth the gracious cup to her sleepy darling’s lips.

[Illustration:  “Nestle down close, fold your hands, and shut your dear eyes!”]