Meanwhile the cars sped on till seventy-five miles separated them from the city. Broad fields extended on either side the railway track. To Tom, who was a true child of the city, who had rarely seen green grass, since the round of her life had been spent within a short distance of City Hall Park, it seemed strange. She wondered how it would seem to live in the country, and rather thought she should not like it.
At length they came to a station where supper was to be obtained. Granny was hungry and rose with alacrity.
“Shall I go with you?” asked Tom.
“No,” said Mrs. Walsh, “set right here. I’ll go and buy something for you.”
They were so far away from the city now that granny had no fear of Tom’s escaping, particularly as she had no money.
Tom retained her seat, therefore, and granny entered the station-house, where some of her fellow-passengers were already hurrying down their suppers.
She stepped up to the counter, and soon was engaged in a similar way.
“Will you have a cup of coffee, ma’am?” inquired the waiter.
“Haven’t you got some whiskey?” inquired the old woman.
“No, we don’t keep it.”