through them the day before, waist-deep.

Even the people who came on the cars at the stations along the way
looked like the people she saw at church every week, and Betty soon
began to feel very much at home. After awhile the train stopped at a
junction where she had to wait several hours to make connection with the
Louisville train. But even that did not turn out to be a bad experience,
as she had feared, for the old lady waited too, and she was as anxious
to find a friend as Betty was. So it was not long until the two were
talking together as sociably as two old neighbours, and they ate their
lunch together with so many exchanges of confidences that they were both
surprised when Betty's train came puffing along. They had not imagined
the time could fly so fast.

At parting they kissed each other as if they had always been friends,
and Betty climbed into the car with a warm glow in her heart at having
found such unexpected pleasantness along the way.

"It was silly of me to have been so frightened," she thought. "The world
isn't a jungle, after all, and we are just as apt to meet the
grandmothers as the wolves when we go travelling."

She was mixing Kaa's experience with Red Riding-hood's in her thought,
but it made no difference. The conclusion she reached was a comfortable
one. So she leaned back in her seat to enjoy the rest of the journey
without any foolish fears.

Little by little the motion of the train had its effect. The white
sunbonnet nodded nearer and nearer toward the cushioned back of the
seat; the brown eyes drooped drowsily, and in a few minutes Betty was