Near the railroad station, the new Methodist chapel, whose resemblance to an enormous locomotive was further heightened by the addition of a pyramidal row of front steps, like a cowcatcher, stood as if waiting for a few more houses to be hitched on to proceed to a pleasanter location.

But the pride of Genoa--the great Crammer Institute for Young Ladies--stretched its bare brick length and reared its cupola plainly from the bleak Parnassian hill above the principal avenue.

There was no evasion in the Crammer Institute of the fact that it was a public institution.

A visitor upon its doorsteps, a pretty face at its window, were clearly visible all over the township.
The shriek of the engine of the four-o'clock Northern express brought but few of the usual loungers to the depot.

Only a single passenger alighted, and was driven away in the solitary waiting sleigh toward the Genoa Hotel.