Then she went outdoors into the crisp morning air. The snow-storm was over, and the day was delightful—blue above, white below. It was like a fairy world. She walked to the end of the platform, unrolled her shawl, and, freeing her mummy-like dog, set his breakfast before him. He ate with avidity, then, showing a disinclination to return to his bandages, hopped on his three legs along the platform beside her, his crooked tail meanwhile describing successive circles in the air. Some of the loiterers about the station gathered around him, and seeing that his bodily infirmities were a subject of mirth rather than of compassion, 'Tilda Jane, in spite of warm protests on his part, once more swathed him in his shawl, and carried him with dignity into the waiting-room. There she sat until the agreeable young man ran in and said her train was coming.
Something warned her that she ought to implore him to tell some one to have a care of her—to see that she did not again get carried beyond her destination, but a kind of paralysis seized upon her tongue, and she could only open her mouth and gape stupidly at him.
"You'll be all right now," he said, with a nod. "Jump when you hear Ciscasset."
"Ciscasset, Ciscasset!" she repeated the name in a kind of desperation, then, as the train started with a jerk and she tumbled into a seat, she said aloud, and without addressing any one in particular, "I wish to jump off at Ciscasset."
"Bless the child!" ejaculated an old lady in the seat before her, "I guess this is her first journey," and turning around, she stared mildly.
"Oh, ma'am," said 'Tilda Jane, "can't you help me get off at Ciscasset? The train goes so fast, an' I'm so little."
"Bless the child!" said the old lady again, "of course I will. Conductor, this little girl wishes to get off at Ciscasset."
"All right," said that official, hurrying by.
"This little girl wishes to get off at Ciscasset," exclaimed the old lady once more, this time to a brakeman.
He nodded and passed on, and presently the conductor returned and said, smartly, "Tickets!"