to a venerable creature of sixteen, who delivered them to
me with such paternal directions, that it only needed a pat
on the head and an encouraging--"Now run home to your Ma, little
girl, and mind the crossings, my dear," to make the illusion
quite perfect.

Why I was sent to a steamboat office for car tickets, is
not for me to say, though I went as meekly as I should have gone
to the Probate Court, if sent. A fat, easy gentleman gave me
several bits of paper, with coupons attached, with a warning not
to separate them, which instantly inspired me with a yearning to
pluck them apart, and see what came of it. But, remembering
through what fear and tribulation I had obtained them, I curbed
Satan's promptings, and, clutching my prize, as if it were my
pass to the Elysian Fields, I hurried home. Dinner was rapidly
consumed; Joan enlightened, comforted, and kissed; the dearest
of apple-faced cousins hugged; the kindest of apple-faced
cousins' fathers subjected to the same process; and I mounted
the ambulance, baggage-wagon, or anything you please but hack,
and drove away, too tired to feel excited, sorry, or glad.



CHAPTER II: A FORWARD MOVEMENT.

As travellers like to give their own impressions of a journey,
though every inch of the way may have been described a half a
dozen times before, I add some of the notes made by the way,
hoping that they will amuse the reader, and convince the
skeptical that such a being as Nurse Periwinkle does exist, that