"If any little bird ate as much as you, he'd be sure to die of dyspepsy," said her husband. If the word in italics is incorrectly spelled, I am not responsible, as that is the way Mr. Clifton pronounced it.
"I confess the ride has given me an appetite also," said Dick. "Suppose we go round to the hotel, and order dinner."
They were soon seated round a bountifully spread dinner-table, to which the whole party, not excepting Mrs. Clifton, did excellent justice. It will not be necessary or profitable to repeat the conversation which seasoned the repast, as, out of deference to Mrs. Clifton's taste, none of the party ventured upon any sensible remarks.
After dinner they extended their drive, and then parted, as Mr. and Mrs. Clifton decided to make a call upon some friends living in the neighborhood.
About four o'clock Richard Hunter and his friends started on their return home. They had about reached the Brooklyn city line, when Fosdick suddenly exclaimed:—
"Dick, there's a carriage overturned a little ways ahead of us. Do you see it?"
Looking in the direction indicated, Dick saw that Fosdick was correct.
"Let us hurry on," he said. "Perhaps we may be able to render some assistance."
Coming up, they found that a wheel had come off, and a gentleman of middle age was leaning against a tree with an expression of pain upon his features, while a boy of about seventeen was holding the horse.