Page:The mislaid uncle (IA mislaiduncle00raym).pdf/36

 *trickeller, and has to go away to the funny pickle place to earn the money for mamma and me. So then she and me never cry once. We just keep on laughing like we didn't mind, even if we do hate to say good-by to papa for so long a while. I said I wouldn't cry, not on all this car ride; never, not at all. I—maybe I forgot, though. Did I cry last night, Mrs. Red Kimono?"

"Possibly, just a little; not worth mentioning. Here, dear, climb into this chair," was the lady's hasty reply.

"What a cute table! Just like hotel ones, only littler. It's dreadful wobbly, though. It makes my head feel funny. I—oh! I'm—I guess—I'm sick!"

The lady shivered quite as visibly as poor Josephine. The dining car was the last one of the long train, and swayed from side to side in a very unpleasant manner. The motion did not improve anybody's appetite, and the grown-up traveller was now vexed with herself for befriending the childish one.

"She was nothing to me. Why should I