us. "Ye won't hev to bother a bit about sech things."

"How long do you s'pose it'll take to make the trip," asked Phoebe. "I
mean by the clock? We won't have to do any washing on the way, will we?"

"I don't see how we can," Rebecca broke in. "The's not a blessed tub on
the hull machine."

"No, no," said Droop, reassuringly. "We'll make a bee-line for the pole,
an' we'll go 'bout three times as fast as a lightnin' express train.
We'd ought to reach there in about twenty-four hours, I guess. Then
we'll take it easy cuttin' meridians, so's not to suffer from side
weight, an'----"

"Side weight!" exclaimed the two women together.

"Yes," said Droop. "That's a complaint ye get ef ye unwind the time too
fast. Ye see, growin' young isn't a thing folks is used to, an' it
disgrummages the hull constitution ef ye grow young too fast. Well, 's I
was a-sayin', I guess it'll take 'bout eighteen hours by the clock to
cut back six years. Thet's by the clock, ye understand. As a matter of
fact, of course, we'll be just six years less'n no time in finishin' the
trip."

"Well," said Phoebe, briskly, "that's no kind o' reason fer dawdlin'
about it now. Let's be startin'."

"Where's the trunks?" said Droop.

The trunks were pointed out, and with very little trouble Copernicus put
them onto the barrow. He then came to the door for his last
instructions.

"'S anythin' more?" he asked.

"No," said Rebecca. "We'll bring on our special duds in our arms. We'll
wait a spell an' come on separate."

The door was carefully closed and they soon heard the slight creak of
the weighted wheel as Droop set off with the trunks for Burnham's swamp.

"Now, then," said Phoebe, bustling into the parlor, "let's get our
things all together ready to start. Have ye got your satchel with the
money in it?"

Rebecca gently slapped a black leather bag hanging at her side.

"Here 'tis," she said.

"Let's see," Phoebe went on. "Here's my box with the letters an'
miniature, here's the box with the jewelry, an' here's that book Mrs.
Bolton gave me about Bacon writin' Shakespeare."

"Whatever air ye takin' that old book fer, Phoebe?"

"Why, to read on the train--I mean on the way, ye know. We'll likely
find it pretty pokey in that one room all day."

"I don't know what ye mean by 'all day,'" Rebecca exclaimed in a
discouraged tone. "So far's I see, th'ain't goin' to be any days.
What'll it feel like--livin' backward that way? D'ye guess it'll make