He thought to himself, just as he said this, that perhaps this was the right thing for a driver of a puff-puff, as they called railway-engines in the nursery, but he did not like to say so.
TICKETS FOR SOUP.
After Ranulf had tasted the soup, Norval and Jaques had some, just as the porter came along the train calling out, “All tickets for soup ready, please; tickets reade-e-e-e. All tickets for soup ready, please.”
“But we haven’t got any tickets,” said Ranulf.
“Then,” said the porter, “where’s your fare?”
“Well, we had fairy fare a little ago.”
“But I mean railway fare,” said the porter.
“Oh,” said Norval, “we’ve just had it too, and first-class fare it was; at least it was fair fare.”
“All right,” said the porter; “but any boy who travels without his fare, or his ticket for soup, will be breeched for breach of the company’s pie-laws, remember that.”
STOUT PORTER.