Yes, he "lived in New York," and he "went to a grammar school," and he had
"two sisters." And so we talked on in that sweet, ready, trustful talk
which comes naturally only from children's lips, until the "twenty minutes
for refreshments" were over, and the choked and crammed passengers, who
had eaten big dinners in that breath of time, came hurrying back to their
seats. Among them came the father and mother of my little friend. In angry
surprise at not finding him in the seat where they left him, they
exclaimed,--
"Now, where _is_ that boy? Just like him! We might have lost every one of
these bags."
"Here I am, mamma," he called out, pleasantly. "I could see the bags all
the time. Nobody came into the car."
"I told you not to leave the seat, sir. What do you mean by such conduct?"
said the father.
"Oh, no, papa," said poor Boy, "you only told me to take care of the
bags." And an anxious look of terror came into his face, which told only
too well under how severe a _regime_ he lived. I interposed hastily with--
"I am afraid I am the cause of your little son's leaving his seat.
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