MR. RICHARDS: "I wish to ask you just this, Miss Galbraith: if you
couldn't ride backwards in the other car, why do you ride backwards
in this?"

MISS GALBRAITH, burying her face in her handkerchief, and sobbing:
"Oh, oh, oh! This is too bad!"

MR. RICHARDS: "Oh, come now, Lucy. It breaks my heart to hear you
going on so, and all for nothing. Be a little merciful to both of
us, and listen to me. I've no doubt I can explain everything if I
once understand it, but it's pretty hard explaining a thing if you
don't understand it yourself. Do turn round. I know it makes you
sick to ride in that way, and if you don't want to face me--there!"--
wheeling in his chair so as to turn his back upon her--"you needn't.
Though it's rather trying to a fellow's politeness, not to mention
his other feelings. Now, what in the name" -

PORTER, who at this moment enters with his step-ladder, and begins to
light the lamps: "Going pretty slow ag'in, sah."

MR. RICHARDS: "Yes; what's the trouble?"

PORTER: "Well, I don't know exactly, sah. Something de matter with
de locomotive. We sha'n't be into Albany much 'fore eight o'clock."

MR. RICHARDS: "What's the next station?"

PORTER: "Schenectady."