"Mother, aren't my manners the top notch of perfection?" Roger demanded.
"They're very good at times," returned his mother calmly.
"'At times' means all the time, of course," insisted Roger. "Did Mother ever compliment you like that, kids?"
"You're going part way with us," they announced kindly.
"Good enough. How far? To Buffalo?"
Roger beamed.
"Not quite. To Mayville."
Roger groaned.
"To Mayville! Three miles. You'll be saying next that I may have the privilege of walking there to see you off and waving my hand as the train departs."
"That's just what we are saying, my child. Except that we'll all travel the three miles in our trolley car or on our steamer instead of on our feet."