“Great head, Mother!” cried Roger, “you are truly a genius!”
An open landau was engaged, and Roger and the three ladies started for the drive. They spent a delightful hour viewing the points of interest in the city, which the obliging driver pointed out to them.
They smiled when they came to the Insane Asylum, and though the grounds looked attractive, they concluded not to go there to stay, even though their old farmer friend had seemed to think it an appropriate place for them.
“It’s a strange thing,” said Roger, “that people who do not ride in automobiles always think that people who do are crazy. I’m sure I don’t know why.”
“I wouldn’t blame anybody for thinking Mr. Phelps crazy, if they had seen him this morning,” said Patty.
“That’s only because you’re not accustomed to seeing men in racing costume,” said Roger. “After you’ve seen a few more rigs like that, you won’t think anything of them.”
“That’s so,” said Patty thoughtfully, “and if I had never before seen a farmer in the queer overalls, and big straw hat, that our old country gentleman wore, I daresay I should have thought his appearance quite as crazy as that of Mr. Phelps.”
“You have a logical mind, Patty,” said Mrs. Farrington, “and on the whole I think you are right.”