th; for I'd be sure of his tumbling out over you. Here,
let me lay him down. [She lays the baby in the lower berth.] There! Now
get in, Agnes--do, and leave me to my struggle with the attraction of
gravitation.

MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, _poor_ aunty, how will you ever manage it? I _must_
help you up.

AUNT MARY. No, my dear; don't be foolish. But you may go and call the
porter, if you like. I dare say he's used to it.

[MRS. ROBERTS goes and speak timidly to THE PORTER, who fails at first to
understand, then smiles broadly, accepts a quarter with a duck of his
head, and comes forward to AUNT MARY'S side.]

MRS. ROBERTS. Had he better give you his hand to rest your foot in,
while you spring up as if you were mounting horseback?

AUNT MARY (with disdain). _Spring_! My dear, I haven't sprung for a
quarter of a century. I shall require every fibre in the man's body. His
hand, indeed! You get in first, Agnes.

MRS. ROBERTS. I will, aunty dear; but--

AUNT MARY (sternly). Agnes, do as I say. [MRS. ROBERTS crouches down on
the lower berth.] I don't choose that any member of my family shall
witness my contortions. Don't you look.

MRS. ROBERTS. No, no, aunty.

AUNT MARY. Now, porter, are you strong?

PORTER. I used to be porter at a Saratoga hotel, and carried up de
ladies' trunks dere.

AUNT MARY. Then you'll do, I think. Now, then, your knee; now your
back. There! And very handsomely done. Thanks.

MRS. ROBERTS. Are you really in, Aunt Mary?

AUNT MARY (dryly). Yes. Good-night.

MRS. ROBERTS. Good-night, aunty. [After a pause of some minutes.]
Aunty!

AUNT MARY. Well, what?

MRS. ROBERTS. Do you think it's perfectly safe?

[She rises in her berth, and looks up over the edge of the upper.]

AUNT MARY. I suppose so. It's a well-managed road. They've got the air-
brake, I've heard, and the Miller platform, and all those horrid things.
What makes you introduce such unpleasant subjects?

MRS. ROBERTS. Oh, I don't mean accidents. But, you know, when you turn,
it does creak so awfully. I shouldn't mind myself; but the baby--

AUNT MARY. Why, child, do you think I'm going to break through? I
couldn't. I'm one of the _lightest_ sleepers in the world.

MRS. ROBERTS. Yes, I know you're a light sleeper; but--but it doesn't
seem quite the same thing, somehow.

AUNT MARY. But it is; it's quite the same thing, and you can be
perfectly easy in your mind, my dear. I should be