"Don't you tubble yourself, mamma," said She; "I'll look out the winner, and tell you when we get there."
"Don't let her fall out, Horace," said Mrs. Clifford; "I have a headache, and you must watch her."
"Has you got a headache, mamma? I's solly. Lean 'gainst ME, mamma."
Horace wished the conductor had been in that car, so he could have seen Miss Flyaway trying to prop her mother's head against her own morsel of a shoulder—about as secure a resting-place as a piece of thistle-down.
"When was it be dinner-time?" said she at last, growing very tired of so much care, and beginning to think "'Naplis" was a long way off.
But they arrived there at last, and found Mr. Parlin waiting for them at the depot. After they had all been refreshed by a nice dinner, and Flyaway had caught a nap, which took her about as long as it takes a fly to eat his breakfast, then Mr. Parlin suggested that they should visit the Blind Asylum.
"Is it where they make blinds?" asked Dotty.
"O, no," replied Mr. Parlin; "it is a school where blind children are taught."
"What is they when they is blind, uncle Eddard?"
"They don't see, my dear."