"I guess not. If I'd known what kind of a time I was a-goin' to have, I wouldn't have left Squashboro', you bet!"
"Are you from Squashboro'?" asked Frank, amused.
"Yes, I'm from Squashboro', State of Maine, and I wish I was there just now, I tell you."
"You won't feel so when you get on the other side," said Frank, consolingly.
"Well, may be not; but I tell you, boy, it feels kinder risky bein' out here on the mill-pond with nothin' but a plank between you and drownin'. I guess I wouldn't make a very good sailor."
"Are you going to travel much?" asked Frank.
"Wal, you see, I go mostly on business. My name's Jonathan Tarbox. My father's name is Elnathan Tarbox. He's got a nice farm in Squashboro', next to old Deacon Perkins'. Was you ever in Squashboro'?"
"No; I think not."
"It's a thrivin' place, is Squashboro'. Wal, now, I guess you are wonderin' what sets me out to go to Europe, ain't you?"
"I suppose you want to see the country, Mr. Tarbox."