"I wonder," said he, to a fellow passenger, "do those things grow 'round here?"
They both enjoyed a laugh.
He was now in a land in which a portion of the people, apparently, possessed little sense of humor, judging from the way his jokes were accepted.
On the car were two women, among the half dozen or so colored passengers. Sidney overheard one of them say to the other:
"I'm from No'th C'lina; but I be'n in Oklahoma two ye's. I'm go'n back home t' stay. Whe' you from?"
"Tennessee, Knoxville. I'm livin' in Bloomington, Illinois, now."
They looked inquiringly in the direction of Wyeth, and presently he was drawn into the conversation. The latter possessed fine sense of humor, and when he found these people so serious, he took delight in joking.
"Whe' you from?" they inquired, with all that is southern and hospitable in their tone.
"From the Rosebud Country, South Dakota," he replied. Their faces were a study. Somewhere in the years gone by they might have heard of that state in school, but the Rosebud Country was Greek to them.
"O-oh," they echoed, and then looked at each other and back at him. Presently one of them inquired: "Where is that?"