"You don't know how strong I am," said Herbert; "I shan't get tired so
easily as you think."

"But twenty miles is a long distance."

"I know that, but I shall take it easy. The stage fare is seventy-five
cents, and it's a good way to save it. I wish somebody would offer me
seventy-five cents for every twenty miles I would walk. I'd take it up
as a profession."

"I am afraid I could earn little that way. I never was a good walker."
"You're a woman," said Herbert, patronizingly. "Women are not expected
to be good walkers."

"Some are. I remember my Aunt Jane would take walks of five and six
miles, and think nothing of it."

"I guess I could match her in walking," said Herbert, confidently. "Is
she alive?"

"No, she died three years since."

"Perhaps I take after her, then."

"You don't take after me, I am sure of that. I think, Herbert, you had
better take seventy-five cents with you, so that if you get very tired
with your walk over, you can come back by stage."

"All right, mother; I'll take the money, but I shall be sure not to