"Yes. He and I took a lot of dogs from his hospital out for a walk
to the Cliff House last Sunday, but we had to walk all the way home,
because they wouldn't follow. You've been out to the Cliff House?"

"Not for a long time. We had a picnic there one Fourth of July, but it
rained. Don't you love the ocean?"

"Yes--yes, I like it pretty well."

"Oh, I'd like to go off in one of those big sailing ships. Just away,
and away, and away, anywhere. They're different from a little yacht. I'd
love to travel."

"Sure; so would I."

"Papa and mamma came over in a sailing ship. They were twenty-one days.
Mamma's uncle used to be a sailor. He was captain of a steamer on Lake
Geneva, in Switzerland."

"Halt!" shouted Mr. Sieppe, brandishing his rifle. They had arrived at
the gates of the park. All at once McTeague turned cold. He had only
a quarter in his pocket. What was he expected to do--pay for the whole
party, or for Trina and himself, or merely buy his own ticket? And even
in this latter case would a quarter be enough? He lost his wits,
rolling his eyes helplessly. Then it occurred to him to feign a great
abstraction, pretending not to know that the time was come to pay. He
looked intently up and down the tracks; perhaps a train was coming.
"Here we are," cried Trina, as they came up to the rest of the party,
crowded about the entrance. "Yes, yes," observed McTeague, his head in