"That's beautiful," said I, as I folded it up and handed it back to Phaeton, who read it again before putting it into his pocket.
"Yes," said he, "that's lovely."
"You never were called 'Mr. Rogers' before, were you?" said I.
"No," said he.
"I tell you what 'tis, Fay," said I, "we're getting along in life."
"Yes," said he; "youth glides by rapidly. It was only a little while ago that we had never run with a machine, never taken an axe at a fire, and—never received a note like this."
"And now," said I, "we—that is, you—have made an invention to abolish all fire departments."
"If it works," said Phaeton.
"I haven't the least doubt that it will," said I, although I had not the remotest idea what it was.
Jack, who had just flagged a train, and was rolling up his flag as we arrived, cordially invited us into his box.