blurted, sounding affronted. A few more children edged forward, but we still didn’t have enough to fill both buses. “We have sweets!” Colin shouted in desperation, and a mob of children materialized as if from thin air to rush, shouting, toward us.
Colin instinctively jumped away from the door. “We appear to be under attack,” he said wryly. Putting on his conductor persona, he said with a welcoming grin, “Right this way, ladies and gentlemen, one at a time.” But the children, who had likely never ridden any conveyance with a conductor, nearly trampled him in their eagerness to find the sweets.
When we had everyone on board, there were so many children that the smaller ones had to sit in bigger ones’ laps, and there were even a couple of older boys riding on the engine. Finally, with one last great blast of the whistle, we were off. We’d barely gone three blocks before the children were out of their seats, running up and down the aisle. The bus threatened to tip over when a particularly interesting sight on one side brought all of them over to see it.
Colin rushed up the aisle to push children back into their seats. “Stay seated!” he shouted. A few of the children appeared properly cowed, but the rest ignored him entirely. It took him, Lizzie, and me several minutes to get everyone down again because no sooner had we seated one child than another got up.
To distract the children, Colin attempted to start a sing-along, but the children didn’t know any of his songs. “You’re a great bunch of Philistines, you are,” he grumbled good-naturedly. “Well, it’s high time you got some culture.” He proceeded to teach them his version of “Yankee Doodle,” and the children must have liked mocking the magisters because eventually they joined in the chorus.
We reached the Battery, and the stone walls of the fort came into view. It had been built to protect the harbor, but now it served more as a reminder of British might on colonial shores. As if to mitigate that impression, the battery next to the fort was open as a public park when it wasn’t being used for military ceremonies.
There was no sign of the military outside the gates of the fort, but other Mechanics were already there in force. The calliope, which was on wheels and had its own engine, sat in the park playing merrily. Nearby, a steam engine smaller than Bessie was hitched to a wagon loaded with hay. Some of the devices from the exposition were there, including miniature trains and airships.
When the bus stopped, it took all of Colin’s effort to make the children get off one at a time. Once they were off, he took a red handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his face. “Bringing this lot here might count as an act of war,” he said with a rueful grin. “The soldiers’ll barricade themselves in the fort if they know what’s good for ’em.”
Alec jumped down from the engine and pushed his goggles back on his forehead. “Do you feel better about what we’re doing here now?” he asked me.
“I was worried about the soldiers,” I said, eyeing the children at play. “Now I have to agree with Colin. The soldiers may be the least of our worries.”
Alec put a protective arm around me. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe from the hooligans.”
“Verity, this isn’t a romantic outing for two,” Lizzie called, and I stepped guiltily away from Alec before going to help carry out the baskets for the picnic. We soon had to call in reinforcements because it took several guards to keep children from stealing food while we readied the picnic. As skinny as these children were, I suspected some of them hadn’t eaten in days.
Rather than fight off the children until after they’d done some of the activities, we decided to serve lunch right away, handing out one apple and one sandwich to each child. They pressed toward us en masse, and it took all the Mechanics to guide the unruly boys into something resembling a line.
I was too busy serving food to pay much attention to the children, but one boy gave me pause. “I’ve already given you a sandwich,” I told him.
“You ain’t never,” he said.
“I recognize you,” I insisted. His hair was redder than Colin’s, so he stood out.
“That was my twin brother.”
“Wearing the same clothes?”
“Ma makes us dress alike.”
“With the same stains?”
“We get into the same trouble.”
“With crumbs