“Bathing’s good for you.”

“If the water’s too warm, it isn’t.  It weakens you.”

Mr. Sieppe came running down the tracks, waving his cane.

“To one side,” he shouted, motioning them off the track; “der drain gomes.”  A local passenger train was just passing B Street station, some quarter of a mile behind them.  The party stood to one side to let it pass.  Marcus put a nickel and two crossed pins upon the rail, and waved his hat to the passengers as the train roared past.  The children shouted shrilly.  When the train was gone, they all rushed to see the nickel and the crossed pins.  The nickel had been jolted off, but the pins had been flattened out so that they bore a faint resemblance to opened scissors.  A great contention arose among the children for the possession of these “scissors.”  Mr. Sieppe was obliged to intervene.  He reflected gravely.  It was a matter of tremendous moment.  The whole party halted, awaiting his decision.

“Attend now,” he suddenly exclaimed.  “It will not be soh soon.  At der end of der day, ven we shall have home gecommen, den wull it pe adjudge, eh?  A REward of merit to him who der bes’ pehaves.  It is an order.  Vorwarts!”

“That was a Sacramento train,” said Marcus to Selina as they started off; “it was, for a fact.”

“I know a girl in Sacramento,” Trina told McTeague.  “She’s forewoman in a glove store, and she’s got consumption.”

“I was in Sacramento once,” observed McTeague, “nearly eight years ago.”

“Is it a nice place—­as nice as San Francisco?”

“It’s hot.  I practised there for a while.”

“I like San Francisco,” said Trina, looking across the bay to where the city piled itself upon its hills.

“So do I,” answered McTeague.  “Do you like it better than living over here?”

“Oh, sure, I wish we lived in the city.  If you want to go across for anything it takes up the whole day.”

“Yes, yes, the whole day—­almost.”

“Do you know many people in the city?  Do you know anybody named Oelbermann?  That’s my uncle.  He has a wholesale toy store in the Mission.  They say he’s awful rich.”

“No, I don’ know him.”

“His stepdaughter wants to be a nun.  Just fancy!  And Mr. Oelbermann won’t have it.  He says it would be just like burying his child.  Yes, she wants to enter the convent of the Sacred Heart.  Are you a Catholic, Doctor McTeague?”

“No.  No, I—­”

“Papa is a Catholic.  He goes to Mass on the feast days once in a while.  But mamma’s Lutheran.”

“The Catholics are trying to get control of the schools,” observed McTeague, suddenly remembering one of Marcus’s political tirades.

“That’s what cousin Mark says.  We are going to send the twins to the kindergarten next month.”

“What’s the kindergarten?”

“Oh, they teach them to make things out of straw and toothpicks—­kind of a play place to keep them off the street.”