“I wish you was goin’ with us, Sadie,” the young gentleman said, when a throng on the sidewalk forced the leaders to come to a partial halt.
“So do I; but of course there’s no chance for anything of that kind. Yesterday oughter be enough to last me a year. I never had such a splendid time in all my life, even if we did get lost.”
“P’rhaps you’ll see a good many like that before long,” Josiah replied, and then checked himself suddenly, as if he had been on the point of saying something which should be kept a secret.
“That’s a big p’rhaps,” Sadie said with a laugh which was very like a sob. “There ain’t many in this city what think of givin’ a girl like me a good time, an’ you’re goin’ off so soon that I won’t even so much as hear of dime museums or restaurants with fifteen-cent dinners.”
“You mustn’t go to feelin’ bad, ’cause things’ll come ’round right somehow.”
“Of course they will, an’ even if they don’t, I’ve been to Coney Island, an’ all them places, so when it ain’t very jolly, I’ll think of what I have had, ’an there’ll be a heap of satisfaction in that.”
Now the party had arrived at the corner where Sadie spent her time trying to sell matches, and Josiah cried:—
“If we get back before dark, I’ll see you to-night.”
“There ain’t much chance of that; but I’ll be here in the mornin’.”
“Come on!” Bob shouted, “I reckon them fellers are jest ’bout wild ’cause we didn’t get there before.”