arrangements of Mrs
Tipps' establishment, in prospect of its being left without its first
mate for a time, that a considerable period elapsed before she got her
anchor tripped and herself ready to set sail with the first fair wind.
Worthy Mrs Durby, we may observe, was fond of quoting the late
captain's phraseology. She was an affectionate creature, and liked to
recall his memory in this somewhat peculiar fashion.

In anticipation of this journey, Netta went one evening, in company with
Emma Lee, to pay Mrs John Marrot a friendly visit, ostensibly for the
purpose of inquiring after the health of baby Marrot, who, having
recently fallen down-stairs, swallowed a brass button and eaten an
unknown quantity of shoe-blacking, had been somewhat ailing. The real
object of the visit however, was to ask Mrs Marrot to beg of her
husband to take a special interest in Mrs Durby on her journey, as that
excellent nurse had made up her mind to go by the train which he drove,
feeling assured that if safety by rail was attainable at all, it must be
by having a friend at court--a good and true man at the helm, so to
speak.

"But la, Miss!" said Mrs Marrot, sitting on the bed and patting the
baby, whose ruling passion, mischief, could not be disguised even in
distress, seeing that it gleamed from his glassy eyes and issued in
intermittent yells from his fevered throat, "if your nurse is of a
narvish temperment she'd better not go with my John, 'cause _he_ usually
drives the Flyin' Dutchman."

"Indeed!" said Netta, with a puzzled smile; "and pray, what is the
Flyin' Dutchman?"

A yell and a glare from baby interrupted the reply. At the same instant
the 7:45 p.m. express flew past with a roar, which was intensified by
the whistle into a shriek as it neared the station. The house trembled
as usual. Netta, not unnaturally, shuddered.

"Don't be alarmed, Miss, it's only the express."

"Do expresses often pass your cottage in that way?" asked Netta, with a
touch of pity.

"Bless you, yes, Miss; they're always passin' day and night continooly;
but we don't think nothink of it. We've got used to it now."

"Does it not disturb you at night?" asked Emma Lee in some surprise.

"No, Miss, it don't--not in the least. No doubt it sometimes _do_
influence our dreams, if I may say so. As my son Bob says--he's a
humorous boy is my Bob, Miss--he says, says he, the trains can't awaken
_us_, but they _do_ awaken noo trains of ideas, especia