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M—B m—B m—N—N—N—Oh! where are you, N? Where is the little girl at B m—B m—B m?"

Such were the sounds that greeted Nattie's ears, as she entered the office the morning after her adventure with the love-lorn Quimby; and immediately she ceased to speculate on the probable embarrassment that must necessarily attend their not-to-be-avoided next meeting, and interrupted "C's" solitary conversation, by saying,

"What is the matter with you this morning? Here I am, N."

"G. M., my dear. I'm off, and wanted to say good-by before I went," responded "C."

"Off?" questioned Nattie, with a sudden fall in her mental temperature.

"Yes, I am going to a station five miles below to substitute, to-day. The operator there is obliged to go away, and couldn't find any one competent to do his work, and as there was a fellow that could do mine, he comes here and I go there."