Several voices at once attempted to answer him. “It is just off of Second Street,” said Lora. And Emma in the same breath said, “It is over by the river somewhere; near Park Street, isn’t it?” Then Dickie, “Why, Lora, it can’t be near Second Street, because Wyeth Avenue runs in there.”
“No, it doesn’t; Wyeth Avenue crosses at Third Street.”
Then exclamations from at least four: “Why, Lora Edwards! Wyeth Avenue isn’t near Third Street. I think Ashman Square is down by the Lincoln Statue; isn’t it, papa?”
“I am sure I don’t know,” said papa, who just then entered the room. “The city changes so rapidly and adds so many fancy names that I cannot keep track of it. Who wants to know—Edward? There is a map about somewhere. I shouldn’t wonder if Ashman Square was down near the old Ashman place, towards the river.”
“There!” said Emma, “I was sure it was near the river.”
“But the river is quite a stream, my dear niece,” Uncle Edward said, smiling.
“Yes; but Ashman Square is not very far down; it is near the Westfield car line.”
Then a perfect babel of voices ensued.
“O, Emma, no!”
“Emma Edwards! it is a quarter of a mile from the Eastman line, I am certain.”