The Ticket-clerk, who could only see the top of the Dodo’s head, very naturally mistook him for an old gentleman without his hat, and inquired, politely, “What class, Sir?”
This was a puzzler, and the Dodo went back to Dick and told him that the gentleman in the office wanted to know what class they were in.
“What does he mean?” asked Dick.
“What class you’re in at school, I suppose,” said the Dodo, doubtfully.
“Why, I’m in the fourth form,” said Dick; “but I don’t see what he wants to know that for, unless—Oh yes, of course, I see—he wants to find out how old we are, because up to twelve years of age you can travel half-price, you know. Let’s see—we only want halves, Marjorie and Fidge and myself; you’ll have to get a whole ticket, I suppose, though I have seen a notice at a railway station somewhere, on which it stated, ”Soldiers and Dogs half-price.” Perhaps it applies to birds, too. You had better ask, I think.”
So the Dodo went back to the booking-office again and inquired, “Do birds travel half-price?”
“Birds!” exclaimed the Booking-clerk. “Nonsense! There is no charge for birds, unless you have a quantity,” he added, as an afterthought. “How many have you?”
“Oh, there’s only one,” said the Dodo.
“Take it in the carriage with you, no charge,” said the Clerk.
“Thanks! It’s awfully kind of you,” said the Dodo. “I’ll take three half-tickets for London, then, please.”