TOMMY TODD’S STORY

“Mother, how many more stations before we’ll be home?”

“Oh, quite a number, dear.  Sit back and rest yourself.  I thought you liked it on the train.”

“I do; but it’s so long to sit still.”

The little fellow who had asked the question turned to his golden-haired sister, who sat in the seat with him.

“Aren’t you tired, Flossie?” he asked.

“Yes, Freddie, I am!” exclaimed Flossie.  “And I want a drink of water.”

“Dinah will get it for you,” said Mother Bobbsey.  “My!  But you are a thirsty little girl.”

“Deed an’ dat’s whut she am!” exclaimed a fat, good-natured looking colored woman, smiling at the little girl.  Dinah was the Bobbsey family cook.  She had been with them so long that she used to say, and almost do, just what she pleased.  “Dis am de forty-sixteen time I’se done bin down to de end ob de car gittin’ Miss Flossie a drink ob watah.  An’ de train rocks so, laik a cradle, dat I done most upsot ebery time.  But I’ll git you annuder cup ob watah, Flossie lamb!”

“And if you’re going to upset, and fall down, Dinah, please do it where we can see you,” begged Freddie.  “Nothing has happened since we got on this train.  Do upset, Dinah!”

“Yes, I want to see it, too,” added Flossie.  “Here, Freddie, you can have my place at the window, and I’ll take yours on the outside.  Then I can see Dinah better when the car upsets her.”

“No, I want to sit here myself, Flossie.  You wanted the window side, and now you must stay there.”

“No, I don’t want to.  I want to see Dinah upset in the aisle.  Mamma, make Freddie let me sit where I can see Dinah fall.”

“Well, ob all t’ings!” gasped the fat, colored cook.  “If you chilluns t’ink dat I’se gwine t’ upsot mahse’f so yo’ kin see suffin t’ laugh at, den all I’se got t’ say is I ain’t gwine t’ do it!  No, sah!  Not fo’ one minute!” And Dinah sat up very straight in her seat.

“Children, be nice now,” begged Mother Bobbsey.  “I know you are tired with the long ride, but you’ll soon hear the brakeman call out ‘Lakeport’; and then we’ll be home.”

“I wish I were home now,” said Freddie.  “I want to get my dog Snap out of the baggage car, and have some fun with him.  I guess he’s lonesome for me.”

“And he’s lonesome for me, too!” cried Flossie.  “He’s as much my dog as he is yours, Freddie Bobbsey.  Isn’t he, Mother?”

“Yes, dear, of course.  I don’t know what’s the matter with you two children.  You never used to dispute this way.”

“I guess the long train ride is tiring them,” said Papa Bobbsey, looking up from the paper he was reading.

“Anyhow, half of Snoop, our black cat, is mine then,” said Freddie.  “Isn’t she, Mother?”

“Yes.  And now please don’t talk like that any more.  Look out of the window and watch the trees shoot past.”