[WHY DICK DROVE THE CAR.]
BY MATTHEW WHITE, JUN.
"I wonder what I am good for, anyway?" muttered Dick Winworth to himself as he sucked the finger he had caught in the gate, and gazed ruefully at the butter stain on his sleeve.
It was just after dinner on a warm summer's day, and at the table Dick had displayed more than usual awkwardness, for he had upset the salt in taking his seat, trod on his aunt Phœbe's tenderest foot in getting up, scalded his tongue with hot soup, and broken a decorated plate belonging to an old set, which his sister appeared to value more highly than if it were new. It was in a fit of despair over the latter catastrophe that the usually gentle maiden had uttered an exclamation or two, which led her brother to ask the above mournful mental question.
The first delicious freshness of vacation had worn off, and now that Town Bergen, Dick's great "chum," was away on a visit, young Winworth had begun to find time hang rather heavy on his hands, especially as he had just finished a very interesting book, and was quite sure he couldn't find another as good.
Pondering in his mind as to whether long holidays were such desirable things after all, Dick strolled on through the quiet village street, which had been lately dignified by being chosen as the thoroughfare of the only horse-railroad in the place.
The terminus of the route was not far from the Winworths', at the entrance to the little park, and as Dick in his walk came in sight of the latter, he suddenly resolved to take a trip into town and back.
"That'll keep me out of mischief for an hour at least, and besides, I've been meaning to ride in on the cars all the week," and the boy quickened his steps in order to catch the "bobtail" he saw standing there.
However, he need have been in no sort of hurry, as he soon discovered that the horse appeared to be asleep, with the lines wound around the brake, while there were no signs of the driver anywhere.
There were not more than a dozen cars on the road, and these ran at intervals of several minutes, and as here at the outskirts of the village there were as yet very few houses, it was not considered necessary to have a waiting-room, nor even a starter's box.