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It was to the town where she had to change cars and take the great through train; a point of geography which she had learned from evening talks between the men at the farm. "What'll ye carry me there for?" "We don't run no passenger cars," said one of the young fellows, laughing. "What makes you in such a hurry?" "I'm startin' for Pheladelphy, an' it's a gre't ways to go."
What be you goin' right back for? ain't you goin' to see the great fair to Pheladelphy, that everybody talks about?" "No," said Mrs. Strafford, laughing at this eager and almost convicting question. "No; I'm going back next week. If I were, I believe that I should take you with me. Good-by, dear old Betsey; you make me feel as if I were a little girl again; you look just the same."
"I'm a-goin' to Pheladelphy, to the Centennial, same's other folks. I'd jest as soon tell ye's not, old crow;" and Betsey laughed aloud in pleased content with herself and her daring, as she walked along. She had only two miles to go to the station at South Byfleet, and she felt for the money now and then, and found it safe enough.
I've come back with one-thirty-five in money, and I see everything there, an' I fetched ye all a little somethin'; but I'm full o' dust now, an' pretty nigh beat out. I never see a place more friendly than Pheladelphy; but 't ain't natural to a Byfleet person to be always walkin' on a level. There, now, Peggy, you take my bundle-handkercher and the basket, and let Mis' Dow sag on to me.
"There ain't nothin' the matter, as I knows on," responded the leader of this fruitless expedition. "We only thought we'd take a stroll this pleasant mornin'," she added, with sublime self-possession. "Where've you be'n, Betsey Lane?" "To Pheladelphy, ma'am," said Betsey, looking quite young and gay, and wearing a townish and unfamiliar air that upheld her words.
Bixbee occasionally surprised her brother with unexpected penetration, but she seldom got much recognition of it. "I see by the paper," he remarked, "that the' was a man died in Pheladelphy one day last week," which piece of barefaced irrelevancy elicited no notice from Mrs. Bixbee. "What more did he say?" she demanded. "Wa'al," responded Mr.
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