ON THE OTHER TRAIN.
“There, Simmons, you blockhead! Why didn’t you trot that old woman aboard her train? She’ll have to wait now until the 1.05 A.M.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“Yes, I did tell you. ’Twas only your confounded stupid carelessness.”
“She——”
“She! You fool! What else could you expect of her! Probably she hasn’t any wit; besides, she isn’t bound on a very jolly journey—got a pass up the road to the poor-house. I’ll go and tell her, and if you forget her to-night, see if I don’t make mince-meat of you!” and our worthy ticket-agent shook his fist menacingly at his subordinate.
“You’ve missed your train, marm,” he remarked, coming forward to a queer-looking bundle in the corner.
A trembling hand raised the faded black veil, and revealed the sweetest old face I ever saw.
“Never mind,” said a quivering voice.