The two women also were somewhat stupefied by the continual rotation and their enforced immobility. They spoke but seldom and must have dozed frequently, for Phœbe was much surprised to find, on looking at the clock, that it was half-past five.
She glanced at the date indicator.
"Why, Rebecca!" she cried. "Here 'tis November, 1804!"
"My land!" cried Rebecca, forgetting her scepticism. "What do you s'pose they're doin' in New Hampshire now, Phœbe?"
"It's 'bout election time, Rebecca. They're probably votin' for Adams or Madison or somebody like that."
"My stars!" said Rebecca. "What ever shall we do ef this old machine goes on back of the Revolution! I should hate to go back an' worry through all them terrible times."
"We'll be lucky if we stop there," said Phœbe. "I only hope to gracious we won't go back to Columbus or King Alfred."
"Oh, I hope not!" said Rebecca, with a shudder. "Folks ud think we was crazy to be talkin' 'bout America then."
Phœbe tried to toss her head.
"If 'twas in Alfred's time," she said, "they couldn't understand what we was talkin' about."