We went on our way twisting and turning, but always gliding so smoothly about this wonderful city. Is it because it is so big that one doesn’t get tired of New York?
We had gone away out to Van Cortlandt Park, and were thumping along a bit of bad road between the sad trees with their scant covering of dry leaves, when, to my dismay, we came suddenly abreast of another car in which sat one of my former owners whom I had not treated very well.
CHAPTER V
AN OLD FRIEND, AND AN ADVENTURE
Before I had time to dodge under the lap-robe, Miss Bright-Eyes caught sight of me.
That was what I always called her, because she had such piercing shoe buttons of eyes. Her real name was Pursell, and she was a native daughter of the Golden State. Her grandfather had been an old forty-niner who had made a fortune in land.
“Why, Mrs. Granton,” she giggled, “I think I see an old friend with you. Where did you get him?”
Mrs. Granton did not at first understand her, then she said, “Oh! you mean the dog. Louis, make him stand up, so Miss Pursell can see him. Do tell us something about him.”
“See him wiggle and fawn,” said Miss Bright-Eyes. “Oh! he is a rogue. I had him for a whole year, and gave him the best time a dog ever had. We never could make out why he ran away from us.”