"Oh, yes, yes, Grandpapa, please"—Phronsie beat her hands softly together—"to ride on top; may we, dear Grandpapa?" That "dear Grandpapa" settled it. Jasper never heard such a welcome command as that Mr. King was just issuing. "Go to the office and countermand the order for the carriages, my son; tell them to put the amount on my bill, the same as if I'd used them, unless they get a chance to let them to some one else. They needn't be the losers. Now then," as Jasper bounded off to execute the command, "get on your bonnets and hats, all of you, and we'll try this wonderful tram-car. I suppose you won't come with us, but will stay behind for the pleasures of some hospital here," he added to Dr. Fisher.
"On the contrary," said the little doctor, throwing down his napkin and getting out of his chair. "I am going, for there is a marine hospital for children there, that I wouldn't miss for the world."
"I warrant you would find one on a desert island," retorted old Mr.
King. "Well, hurry now, all of you—and we will be off."
"Now, then, all scramble up here. Phronsie, you go with me," cried old Mr. King, as they stood in plein, and the tram-car halted before them. He was surprised to find that he liked this sort of thing, mixing with a crowd and hurrying for seats just like common ordinary individuals. And as he toiled up the winding stairs, Phronsie in front of him, he had an exhilaration already that made him feel almost as young as Polly and Jasper, scampering up the circular stairway at the other end. "Well, bless me, we are up, aren't we?" he exclaimed, sitting down and casting a glance around.
"Did you ever see anything so fascinating?" cried Polly Pepper, clasping her hands in delight, and not stopping to sit down, but looking all around.
"You had better sit down," advised Mother Fisher, "else when the car starts you may go over the railing."
"Oh, I can't fall, Mamsie," said Polly, carelessly, yet she sat down, while Jasper got out of his seat and ran up to old Mr. King.
"Now, father, don't you like it?" he cried. "And isn't it better than a stuffy old carriage?"
"Yes, I do, my boy," answered his father, frankly. "Now run off with you, you've planned it well." So Jasper, made happy for the day, rushed back to his seat. A hand not over clean was laid on it, and a tall individual, who was pouring out very bad provincial French at a fearful rate, was just about to worm himself into it. Polly, who sat next, had turned around to view the scenery from the other side, and hadn't seen his advance.
"Excuse me," said Jasper, in another torrent of the same language, only of a better quality, "this is my seat—I only left it to speak to my father."