"They don't call it Pekin over there," he said. "It's sounded Pei-Chang." "I know," I said, "it's the same way with Poughkeepsie, they pronounce it P'Keepsie." "The Chinese," he went on musingly, "are a strange people." "So are the people in P'Keepsie," I added, "awfully strange." That kind of retort would sometimes stop him, but not always.
We inquired the way from an old man, who said, "If you want to go to P'keepsie, follow the road just this side the post-office; you will save a good many miles, and have a good road; if you want to follow the other fellers, then keep straight on down to the Landing; but why they went down there, beats me." It was six-thirty when we arrived at Poughkeepsie.