across a lonely stretch of country to the
railroad. For we were an obstinate lit-
tle town, and would not build up to the
railroad because the railroad had re-
fused to run up to us. It was a new
station with a fine echo in it, and the
man who called out the trains had a
beautiful voice for echoes. It was cre-
ated to inspire them and to encourage
them, and I stood fascinated by the
thunderous noises he was making till
father seized me by the hand and thrust
me into the care of the train conductor.
They said something to each other in
the sharp, explosive way men have, and
the conductor took me to a seat and
told me I was his girl for the time be-
ing, and to stay right there till he came
for me at my station.

What amazed me was that the car
should be full of people. I could not
imagine where they all could be going.
It was all very well for me, who be-
longed to a family of travellers -- as wit-
ness Aunt Cordelia -- to be going on a
journey, but for these others, these
many, many others, to be wandering
around, heaven knows where, struck me
as being not right. It seemed to take