"Me and Tim are havin' a boss time," said Jerry. "We had a state-room on de cabin floor, layin' crosswise on a mattress. We didn't allow any snorin', and when any feller tried it, we hauled him round the deck by the heels till he quit. There was a man there to see we didn't none of us walk in our sleep. I don't believe he enjoyed hisself much."
Here Tim interrupted the thread of his brother's narrative to inquire what that crooked thing was on the bank, and Jerry, who had been up to Tompkins Square once, replied that it was a tree.
At Troy, four hundred and sixty-seven happy but very hungry youngsters left the boat, and marched through the streets, like an invading army, to a public hall, where tables loaded down with good things awaited them.
It would be impossible to tell whether their host, Mr. Shepard Tappan, or his little guests, enjoyed the occasion most. I rather think that one little fellow who climbed up on the platform, and drummed upon the grand piano with his fists, while some of the boys pelted him with biscuits, had the best time of all.
On the way to the dépôt, after breakfast, all the early risers of Troy were out waiting to see the children pass by.
When the special train drew up at a little station on the shore of Lake Champlain, a very lively gentleman, with a note-book in his hand, jumped to the ground, followed by fifty or sixty little folks, who were no sooner off the cars than they rushed into the field of buttercups and daisies that skirted the track to gather bouquets.
After shaking hands very rapidly with the foremost of a group of kind-hearted farmers who had come down to welcome their little guests, and handing one of them a list of the children's names, the lively gentleman was on the cars again, and the train was out of sight in a moment.
My friends Jerry and Tim were among the number to get off at the station, and a few days after, while riding by a fine old farm-house, I was greeted by a "Hi, mister!" from Jerry himself.
"Me and Tim is puttin' up at this hotel," said he. "You oughter see me apartments! Mrs. Bromley is the lady what lives here. Tim calls Mr. Bromley 'Father.' He promised to take Tim out with him to hoe corn or 'taters, or somepin this mornin'; so as soon as breakfast was over, Tim shoulders the hoe, and says he, 'Come, father, if you want to hoe, come with me; you must hurry up.' Didn't they smile! Of course I don't say nothin' to them," continued Jerry, confidentially, "but I think the milk out here is kind of thick. We all went to church Sunday. I rode on horseback this mornin'. The horses here is more frisky than the street-car horses, and there ain't no lumps on their knees. There ain't any milkmen or organ-grinders like there is on Avenue A, but I like to wade in brooks better than our gutter."
Here a little girl came up, with a wreath of daisies around her head, and little Tim ran round her chasing a butterfly. Jerry ran to help him, and the happy children soon disappeared in the tall shrubbery of the farm-yard.