Flaxie and that Miserable Cracker.—[Page 58.]
"Why, if there isn't Kittyleen!" said Flaxie.
But Kittyleen was only going to Rosewood, the next station. "Marfa" was with her, and would bring her back next day "if she was willing to come."
Flaxie did not seat herself at once. She had a little chat with Kittyleen, after which I regret to say she stood on her tiptoes for some moments, gazing in the mirror at the farther end of the car.
"There, there, sit down, Chicky, your hat is all right," said Preston, who considered her the prettiest little girl he knew, and felt that she did him credit. "And here are your check and your ticket. If you ever expect to travel alone you must learn to take care of your things."
"Oh, yes, I know it! I always keep my ticket when I ride with papa; and very often he goes into another car and leaves me alone," remarked Flaxie.
If this was meant as a hint, it was lost on Preston. He began to read a newspaper, while his young companion looked out of the window at the trees, houses, and fences that flew past in a dizzy blur. She thought she would count the trees, just to amuse herself, and had got as far as eighty-seven, when Preston suddenly tapped her on the shoulder. The conductor was standing near, waiting for her ticket. Rather bewildered, yet anxious to appear prompt and experienced, she put her hand hastily in her pocket, and drew forth, not her ticket, but that miserable, forgotten cracker.
The conductor, a good-natured, red-cheeked man, said, "No, I thank you," and shook his sides with laughing.