They call it a "Pullman" which is a good name for a car, only it's the
engine that pulls the man and the car, too, really. Then we got all
comfortable, with another nice colored man who showed his teeth at us,
and put our bags up on a rack, and Aunty May gave me some sweet
chocolate and a magazine with pictures in it, and Aunty Edith said. "I
wish we didn't have to change at Trenton,"--and--then--I fell asleep.

The next thing I knew Aunty May was saying to me, "Wake up, Billy, dear,
it's Trenton now." She put on my jacket and the man took our bags again
and we stepped out on a big platform, and then another man took all our
bags and we went up one stair, and down another, and waited on a long
platform, where trains kept shooting up every minute.

I couldn't understand what the man in uniform said, until at last a
funny little train--all short, only half as long as our New York one,
and with funny, hard straight seats--came, and we climbed in. Aunty
Edith and Aunty May and me had to carry our own bags and fix 'em. The
train waited a long time, but at last it moved, and Aunty May put her
arm round me and sat me next the window, only it wasn't open, because it
was only April and wasn't warm enough yet, and said, "Now we're off to
East Penniwell."

The train just crawled along, and there was a big canal on the one
side. I saw a canal boat with two men and a dog on it, and they were
cooking something in a big pot on the top of a stove that stood right
out of doors, on top of the boat, with a stovepipe that didn't go into
any chimney, but right up into the air--with smoke coming out of it!

I showed it to Aunty May and she said, "You will see them every day when
we get to the towpath," and I felt awful glad at that, because though