tired, fretty children on trains.
Hesitating a moment, she stared up utterly unsmilingly into the
Salesman's beaming face, ignored the Youngish Girl's inviting hand,
and with a sudden little chuckling sigh of contentment, climbed up
clumsily into the empty place beside the Young Electrician, rummaged
bustlingly around with its hands and feet for an instant, in a
petulant effort to make a comfortable nest for itself, and then
snuggled down at last, lolling half-way across the Young Electrician's
perfectly strange knees, and drowsed off to sleep with all the
delicious, friendly, unconcerned sang-froid of a tired puppy. Almost
unconsciously the Young Electrician reached out and unfastened the
choky collar of the heavy, sweltering little overcoat; yet not a
glance from his face had either lured or caressed the strange child
for a single second. Just for a moment, then, his smiling eyes
reassured the jaded, jabbering French-Canadian mother, who turned
round with craning neck from the front of the car.

"She's all right here. Let her alone!" he signaled gesticulatingly
from child to mother.

Then, turning to the Traveling Salesman, he mused reminiscently:
"Talking's--all--right. But where in creation do you get the time to
_think_? Got any kids?" he asked abruptly.

"N-o," said the Traveling Salesman. "My wife, I guess, is kid enough
for me."

Around the Young Electrician's eyes the whimsical smile-wrinkles
deepened with amazing vividness. "Huh!" he said. "I've got six."

"Gee!" chuckled the Salesman. "Boys?"

The Young Electrician's eyebrows lifted in astonishment. "Sure they're
boys!" he said. "Why, of course!"

The Traveling Salesman looked out far away through the window and
whistled a long, breathy whistle. "How in the deuce are you ever going
to take care of 'em?" he asked. Then his face sobered suddenly. "There
was only two of us fellows at home--just Daniel and me--and even
so--there weren't ever quite enough of anything to go all the way
round."

For just an instant the Youngish Girl gazed a bit skeptically at the
Traveling Salesman's general rotund air of prosperity.

"You don't look--exactly like a man who's never had enough," she said
smilingly.

"Food?" said the Traveling Salesman. "Oh, shucks! It wasn't food I was
thinking of. It was education. Oh, of course," he added
conscientiously, "of course, when the crops weren't either too heavy
or too blooming light, Pa usually managed some way or other to