"I'm afraid of bein' run over," said she, hesitatingly.
"What's the odds if you be?" said Ben. "The city'll have to pay you damages."
"But if I got killed, that wouldn't do me any good," remarked the old lady, sensibly.
"Then the money'd go to your friends," said Ben, consolingly.
"Do you think I will be run over?" asked the old lady, anxiously.
"In course you won't. I'll take care of you. They wouldn't dare to run over me," said Ben, confidently.
Somewhat reassured by this remark, the old lady submitted to Ben's guidance, and was piloted across the street in safety.
"I wouldn't live in New York for a heap of money. It would be as much as my life is worth," she remarked. "How far is Bleecker Street?"
"About two miles."
"I almost wish I'd rid. But a dollar and a half is a sight to pay."