Music Welcome to Snuescast, the podcast designed to help you fall asleep. Find us on snuescast.com and follow us on Instagram at snuescast to find behind the scenes content. If you enjoy our show, please write a review on the Apple Podcast app which helps new listeners to find us. Thank you to our listeners who have already done so. We read and appreciate every single one. This episode is dedicated to Courtney who requested this story and brought to you by Wild Blue Berries. Tonight, we'll read from The Boxcar Children written by first grade school teacher, Gertrude Chandler Warner, and published in 1924. The box-car children tells the story of four orphan children, Henry, Jesse, Violet, and Benny. They create a home for themselves and an abandoned box-car in the forest. They eventually meet their grandfather who was a wealthy and kind man, although the children had believed him to be cruel.

As she wrote the story, Warner read it aloud to her classes, and rewrote it many times to make it easy to understand and enjoyable. Let's get cozy.

Close your eyes. Blacks your body into the softness of your bed.

Now, take a few deep breaths. About seven o'clock, one hot summer evening, A strange family moved into the little village of Middlesex. Nobody knew where they came from or who they were, but the neighbors soon made up their minds when they thought of the strangers. There was a glimpse of a 13-year-old boy.

Toward eight o'clock, a pretty, capable-looking girl of twelve came out of the house and bought a loaf of bread at the bakers. And that was all the villagers learned about the newcomers that night. There are four children set the bake shop woman to her husband the next day, and at least I learned their mother is dead. They must have some money for the girl paid for the bread with a dollar bill, but I don't know about the father. them pay for everything they get. Groud the baker, who was a hard man, soon they will only be beggars. The next day, the oldest boy and girl came to ask the big shopwoman to come over. Their parents were both gone for good. She went over willingly enough for someone had to go, but it was clear that she did not expect to be bothered with four strange children, with the bakery on her hands and two children of her own. Haven't you any other folks?

She asks the children. We have a grandfather in Greenfield, spoke up the youngest child before his sister could clap her hand over his mouth. Hush, Benny. She said anxiously.

This made the big shopwoman suspicious. What's the matter with your grandfather? She asked. He doesn't like us. Replied the oldest boy reluctantly. He didn't want my father to marry my mother. Did you ever see him? Just has. Once she saw him. Oh, he didn't see me, though. Replyed, Jess. He was just passing through our where we used to live and my father pointed him out to me.

Where did you used to live went on the questioner, but none of the children could be made to tell. We'll get along all right alone, won't we, Henry?

Declared Jess.

Indeed, we will.

Said Jessi. Now stay in the house with you tonight, said the woman at last, and tomorrow we will see what can be done. The four children went to bed in the kitchen and gave the visitor the only other bed in the house. They knew that she did not at once go to bed but sat by the window in the dark. Suddenly, they heard her talking to her husband through the open window. They must go to their grandfather that's certain. Just heard her say, of course. I greet her husband. Tomorrow we will make them tell us what his name is. Soon after that, Jess and Henry heard her snoring

heavily. They sat up in the dark. mustn't we surely run away whispered Jess in Henry's ear?

Yes, whispered Henry. Take only what we need most. We must be far off before morning, or they'll catch us. Jess sat still for a moment, thinking for every motion she made must count. I will take both loaves of bread, she thought, and violets little work back. Henry has his knife, and all the money Father left us is in my pocket. She drew it out and counted it in the dark, squinting her eyes in the faint light of the moon. It amounted to nearly four dollars. You'll have to carry Benny until he gets waked up.

Whisper just, if we wake him up here, he might cry.

She touched Violet as she spoke. Sh, violet, come, we're going to run away. She whispered.

The little girl made no sound. She sat up obediently and tried to make out the dim shadow of her sister. What shall I do?" she said, light as a breath. Carried this, said Jess, handing her the work bag and a box of matches. Jess tipped over to the tin box on the table. drew out the two loaves of bread and slipped them into the laundry bag. She peered around the room for the last time and then dropped two small clean towels and a cake of soap into the bag. All right, pick him up. She said to Henry. Henry bent over the sleeping child and lifted him carefully. Jess took the laundry bag, turned the door knob ever so softly. Open the door ever so slowly, and they tiptoed out in a procession. Jess shut the door with as much care as she had opened it. Listen to the big shopwoman's heavy snoring for a moment, and then they turned and picked their way without a sound to the country road. She may wake up before morning, you know.

Whispered Henry, we must do our fastest walking before then. If we can only get to another town before they find out we're gone, they won't know which way to go. Just agreed, and they all walked briskly along in the faint moonlight. How far can you carry Benny? Asked Violet. Oh, at least a mile!" said Henry, confidently.

Although his arms were beginning to ache.

Benny was five years old, and he was a fat, healthy boy as well. I think we could all walk faster if we woke him up," said Jess, decidedly.

We could each take his hand and almost carry him along. Master if we woke him up," said Jess, decidedly.

We could each take his hand and almost carry him along.

Henry knelt by the roadside and set the little fella against his knee. Come, Benny. You must wake up now and walk," said Jess coaxingly.

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