"Oh, mothah," she cried, "you an' Fritz is so bu'ful!" The engine whistled up the road at the crossing.

"Come, we have just time to get to the station," said Mrs.Sherman, holding out her hand.
They went through the gate, down the narrow path that ran beside the dusty road.

The train had just stopped in front of the little station when they reached it.
A number of gentlemen, coming out from the city to spend Sunday at the hotel, came down the steps.

They glanced admiringly from the beautiful, girlish face of the mother to the happy child dancing impatiently up and down at her side.

They could not help smiling at Fritz as he frisked about in his imposing rose-collar.
"Why, where's Papa Jack ?" asked Lloyd, in distress, as passenger after passenger stepped down.