der. It will be
necessary to remain in the shelter of this house until morning. I beg
that you will feel that there is nothing to fear beyond a temporary
inconvenience. I have personally inspected the house, and find that
there are means to provide against the rigour of the weather, at
least. You shall be made as comfortable as possible. Permit me to
assist you to alight."
To the Judge's side came the passenger whose pursuit in life was the
placing of the Little Goliath windmill. His name was Dunwoody; but
that matters not much. In travelling merely from Paradise to Sunrise
City one needs little or no name. Still, one who would seek to divide
honours with Judge Madison L. Menefee deserves a cognomenal peg upon
which Fame may hang a wreath. Thus spake, loudly and buoyantly, the
aerial miller:
"Guess you'll have to climb out of the ark, Mrs. McFarland. This
wigwam isn't exactly the Palmer House, but it turns snow, and they
won't search your grip for souvenir spoons when you leave. /We've/ got
a fire going; and /we'll/ fix you up with dry Tilbys and keep the mice
away, anyhow, all right, all right."
One of the two passengers who were struggling in a melee of horses,
harness, snow, and the sarcastic injunctions of Bildad Rose, called
loudly from the whirl of his volunteer duties: "Say! some of you
fellows get Miss Solomon into the house, will you? Whoa, there! you
confounded brute!"
Again must it be gently urged that in travelling from Paradise to
Sunrise City an accurate name is prodigality. When Judge Menefee--
sanctioned to the act by his grey hair and widespread repute--had
introduced himself to the lady passenger, she had, herself, sweetly
breathed a name, in response, that the hearing of the male passengers
had variously interpreted. In the not unjealous spirit of rivalry that
eventuated, each clung stubbornly to his own theory. For the lady
passenger to have reasseverated or corrected would have seemed
didactic if not unduly solicitous of a specific acquaintance.
Therefore the lady passenger permitted herself to be Garlanded and
McFarlanded and Solomoned with equal and discreet complacency. It is
thirty-five miles from Paradise to Sunrise City. /Compagnon de voyage/
is name enough, by the gripsack of the Wandering Jew! for so brief a
journey.
Soon the little party of wayfarers were happily seated in a cheerful
arc before the roaring fire. The robes, cushions, and removable
portions of the coach had been
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