of utter exhaustion.

"Mother! mother!" cried the little girl. "Do you see they've put us
into a third-class carriage?"

"Never mind, dear," replied the lady. "I was only too thankful to catch
the train at all. We can change at the next station if we wish, but it
seems scarcely worth while for so short a journey. The carriages are so
crowded that the firsts are as bad as the thirds."

"That porter's dirty hands have made black marks on my dress," said the
little girl disconsolately. "Why couldn't the train wait for us? They
needn't have been in such a hurry when they saw we were coming."

"Trains don't wait for any one, dear. It was your own fault, for you
wouldn't come away from the bookstall. I told you to be quick about
choosing."

"I didn't see anything I wanted. Books are all just the same. I don't
think I shall like this one, now I have it. Give me Micky, please,"
taking the pet dog on to her knee. "Shall we have to stay very long in
this carriage? I'm so terribly hot."

"Get the scent out of my bag, dearest, and the vinaigrette. You'll soon
feel better, now this nice breeze is coming in through the window. If
the train's fairly punctual, we shall be there in half an hour."

"It's past three o'clock already!" consulting a pretty enamelled watch
which was pinned on to her dress. "Oh dear! I'm so tired! I hate
travelling. Why can't we have a carriage to ourselves? This basket's
knocking my hat off. _Do_ let us change at the next station. How the
baby cries! It's making my head ache."

"Young lady don't fancy her company," said the market-woman, moving her
basket as she spoke. "I've paid for my ticket same as other folks 'as,
and my money's as good as any one else's, so far as I can see."

"Some people had better order a train to themselves if they're too fine
to travel with the likes of us," observed one of the trippers with
sarcasm.

"I'm sure I'm sorry as he cries so," apologized the weary mother of the
wailing baby. "The heat's turned the milk sour, and I durstn't give him
his bottle. He won't go to sleep without it, neither, so I can't do
nothing with him. Husht! husht! lovey, wilt 'a?"

"Bairns will be bairns," remarked old Mr. Binks sententiously. "I ought
to know, for I've reared seven. Live and let live's my motto, and a good
un to get along the world with. I'll wager as young missy there meant no
offence."

"Indeed she did not wish to hurt anybody's feelings," said the lady
hastily, adding i