More work.
Will you subscribe to this publication, dear Polly?
POLLY TO A. D.
The Hague,
August.
So you have made a flying trip to Rome, launched a daily paper, and returned to Monte Catini. For that matter, I, too, have not been idle, for we have had, since my last letter, a chapter of adventures, really. You know I was going to take charge of this complicated trip. Well! Fate was against me. We started off nicely from Baden-Baden, but hadn’t gone far when a discussion arose with the guard as to where to change cars. A station official settled that and hustled us into another train. As we were feeling quite contented and having a good snooze, we suddenly heard a great rumpus, and found our caboose had broken down on a bridge. They flagged the Orient express which was coming behind and hurried us out again into the dark with our bags and put us aboard, but in the excitement Louisa, the maid, lost her ticket.
At Strasbourg we had to change cars once more, and being late, we simply dashed across the station with the guards flying behind and yelling, “You have only one minute!” It really was awfully comical. Arriving at Brussels early I had a splendid morning, seeing among other things the Grande Place with its beautiful old buildings, and visiting the Gallery Wiertz with all those marvellous but crazy pictures.
Back to the train again, but alas! our troubles were not at an end. Checkers stopped to pay the cabby and Aunt and I went into the station. I was a little ahead with a bag in each hand when suddenly a perfectly strange man came up and kissed me. I screamed, dropped everything I was carrying and stared about me, only to see him run away and look back, laughing. Did you ever hear of anything so saucy?