er
of her handkerchief. Then the train came in and Grandma, clinging
closely to Cyrus, was put on it. Cyrus found a comfortable seat for
her and shook hands cheerily.

"Good-bye, Grandma. Don't be frightened. Here's the _Weekly Argus_. I
got it at the store. You may like to look over it."

Then Cyrus was gone, and in a minute the station house and platform
began to glide away.

Dear, oh dear, what has happened to it? thought Grandma in dismay. The
next moment she exclaimed aloud, "Why, it's us that's moving, not it!"

Some of the passengers smiled pleasantly at Grandma. She was the
variety of old lady at which people do smile pleasantly; a grandma
with round, pink cheeks, soft, brown eyes, and lovely snow-white curls
is a nice person to look at wherever she is found.

After a while Grandma, to her amazement, discovered that she liked
riding on the cars. It was not at all the disagreeable experience she
had expected it to be. Why, she was just as comfortable as if she were
in her own rocking chair at home! And there was such a lot of people
to look at, and many of the ladies had such beautiful dresses and
hats. After all, the people you met on a train, thought Grandma, are
surprisingly like the people you meet off it. If it had not been for
wondering how she would get off at Green Village, Grandma would have
enjoyed herself thoroughly.

Four or five stations farther on the train halted at a lonely-looking
place consisting of the station house and a barn, surrounded by scrub
woods and blueberry barrens. One passenger got on and, finding only
one vacant seat in the crowded car, sat right down beside Grandma
Sheldon.

Grandma Sheldon held her breath while she looked him over. Was he a
pickpocket? He didn't appear like one, but you can never be sure of
the people you meet on the train. Grandma remembered with a sigh of
thankfulness that she had no money.

Besides, he seemed really very respectable and harmless. He was
quietly dressed in a suit of dark-blue serge with a black overcoat. He
wore his hat well down on his forehead and was clean shaven. His hair
was very black, but his eyes were blue--nice eyes, Grandma thought.
She always felt great confidence in a man who had bright, open, blue
eyes. Grandpa Sheldon, who had died so long ago, four years after
their marriage, had had bright blue eyes.

To be sure, he had fair hair, reflected Grandma. It's real odd to see
such black hair with such light blue eyes. Well