The driver chuckled. “What ye want to do that fur? I ain’t so pretty.”
“Oh, but I’d like to talk to you.”
“I’ll be bound ye would. All right; you’ve spoke first. Up ye go,” and he gave her a boost which sent her to a footing by which she could reach the seat.
“There’s room for you, too, Jean,” said Jack reaching down her hands, and with the help of the others Jean was able to find a place by the side of her twin.
The driver, meanwhile, had gone to gather up the trunks, which he brought one by one, and managed to get the greater number strapped on behind; the rest he found room for on top. “There,” he said, “I dunno as we shan’t make it. Ef them folks at the hotel ain’t got a lot of big stuff, I guess we kin. The rest of you gals git up here. Ye kin ride as fur as the hotel anyway, and ef ye have to git inside then don’t say I ain’t give ye a ride on top.”
Thus adjured, the four remaining girls mounted to the top and they started off after a loud “Git ap!” to the horses from the driver.
Fortunately the passengers next gathered up were not many: a meek looking woman with a little girl, and a man, whose only luggage consisted of that in their hands except a suit case which was taken inside. With a mighty crack of the whip and another “Git ap!” off they started again past green farms, low white houses, tranquil ponds and running streams, once in a while clattering through the long street of a quiet village where a stop would be made, the mail delivered, a passenger taken up or set down, and then off again.
Whatever the passengers inside may have felt, to the company of six girls on top it was a journey of delight. The two on the front seat with the driver were in a constant state of giggle, while the four who sat a-row behind them were scarcely less mirthful. The driver informed them his name was Noahdiah Peakes. “Named after my two grandfathers; one was Noah, t’ other Obadiah, so they jest combined ’em and give me the two names in one. I git Noey, gin’rally, though some calls me No,—ole No Peakes. I made up a conundrum ’bout my name. Want to hear it?” Of course they did and were asked, “Why am I like a table-land when I’m to hum?”
“Something about No Peakes,” whispered Jean to Jack, but they could not guess exactly and the answer was given: “Becuz there’s no peaks there,” given with a big laugh and a slap of the thigh, followed by an immediate relapse into entire gravity and a “Git ap” to the horses.
Noahdiah was fond of riddles, they discovered before they had gone far. His stock of them lasted all the way to Friendship. Every now and then he would turn his head over his shoulder and offer the girls behind him one of his conundrums such as: “What does a lawyer do when he’s dead? He lies still. Git ap!” or “Why is my head like the Artic regions? Becuz it’s a great white bare place. Git ap!” Conundrums which touched upon his name, his personal appearance, his dwelling place, were the favorites, they discovered, and he was pleased to boisterousness when Jo made up a new one at which Nan and Mary Lee groaned, “Why should we depend upon you in an accident? Because you are our Maine chance.” He chuckled and sputtered over this for some time, forgetting to say “Git ap!” for at least a quarter of a mile.