Buffalo 398 Mls.—BREWSTER'S CENTER—N. Y. 30 Mls.
Pretty soon we got to singing, and for a little while everybody was singing something different from everybody else, but after a few minutes we got settled down to this:
"There was the Brewster's Centre car,
That traveled here and there;
It had a lot of adventures, too,
And we don't have to pay any fare.
And when it's here, it's here,
And when it's there, it's there;
And when it isn't any place,
Why then it's everywhere.
And if it isn't on the ground,
You'll find it up in the air;
And if it goes to the moon or Mars,
A plaguey lot we care!"
"You can talk about tents and log cabins and house-boats and things," Connie said; "but I'm for that old car. It's stood by us."
"Stood!" I said. "Good night, it hasn't stood very long anywhere; not since we had it."
"It's full of pep," Connie said.
"Always on the go," I told him; "it's different from other cars. It reminds me of Pee-wee. I wonder where we'll go next."
"Sure, I wonder what's the next step in our itinerary," Connie said. Boy, but that fellow is some high brow.
"Our whaterary?" I asked him.