"Oh, yes," Henry returned in a casual tone.

He thumped the floor again, and when the tittering had subsided, and
only the snuffling of Cevery Pulsifer broke the silence, he said: "In
jestice to Mr. Thomas, I am requested to explain that the address was
originally intended to be got off at the railroad. It was forgot by
accident, and him not havin' time to change it, he asks us to make
believe we are standin' alongside of the track at Pleasantville just as
the train comes in."

Isaac Bolum had fixed himself comfortably on two legs of his chair,
with the projecting soles of his boots caught behind the rung. Feet
and chair-legs came to the floor with a crash, and half rising from the
seat, one hand extended in appeal, the other at his right ear, forming
a trumpet, he shouted: "Mr. Chairman! Mr. Chairman!"

"This ain't a liter'ry meetin', Mr. Bolum. The floor is Mr. Thomas's,
I believe," said Henry with dignity.

"But I didn't catch the name of the station you said we was to imagine."

"I said Pleasantville," cried Henry angrily.

"I apologize," returned Isaac. "I thought you said Meadowville, and
never havin' been there, I didn't see how I could imagine the station."

"It seems to me, Isaac Bolum," retorted Henry with dignified asperity,
"that with your imagination you could conjure up a whole railroad
system, includin' the freight-yard. But Mr. Thomas has the floor."