Says I, “How did the conductor look when he was a readin' it?”
And he owned up that he looked dubersome. But, says he, “I rode on it, and I told you that I could.”
“Wall,” says I, sithin', “there is a great mystery about it.”
Says he, “There hain't no mystery to me.”
And then I beset him agin to tell me what he thought the reason wus they give it to him.
And he said “he thought it was because he was so smart.” Says he, “I am a dumb smart feller, Samantha, though I never could make you see it as plain as I wanted to.” And then says he, a goin' on prouder and prouder every minute,—
“I am pretty-lookin'. I am what you might call a orniment to any car on the track. I kinder set a car off, and make 'em look respectable and dressy. And I'm what you might call a influential man, and I s'pose the railroad-men want to keep the right side of me. And they have took the right way to do it. I shall speak well of 'em as long as I can ride free. And, oh! what solid comfort I shall take, Samantha, a ridin' on that pass! I calculate to see the world now. And there is nothin' under the sun to hender you from goin' with me. As long as you are the wife of such a influential and popular man as I be, it don't look well for you to go a mopein' along afoot, or with the old mare. We will ride in the future on my free pass.”
“No,” says I. “I sha'n't ride off on a mystery. I prefer a mare.”