"Then in that case I'll advance what you need," answered Farmer Goodall. "But I am going back myself, and perhaps we can travel together, if you don't mind."
"Not at all."
"I generally travel second-class, but if you----"
"Second class will suit me well enough, Mr. Goodall. In America, you know, we have no classes at all, although in the South we have coaches for white folks, and coaches--we call them cars--for colored people."
"So I've heard. I suppose my son John will see many strange sights when he gets to New York. I've just been seeing him off."
"He will, for New York is somewhat different from any city you have over here. Is he going to remain in New York?"
"No, he's going to Chicago first, and then to what they call the West. I don't know much about it, but I hope the buffaloes and Indians don't kill him, that's all. Come on and have something to eat."
"I don't believe the buffaloes and Indians will trouble him," said Robert, as they moved toward an eating house. "There are very few buffaloes left, and none around the cities and towns, and as for the Indians they are quite peaceful now and live on the reservations the government has allotted them."
"It must be a great country. I wanted to go there when I was a young man, but my wife objected. She didn't want to take the long voyage over the ocean."
"That I presume was before we had the swift ocean steamers."