 | Life and sayings of Mrs. Partington and others
of the family |  |
“FARE, MA'AM.”
HOW do you do, dear?”
said Mrs. Partington,
smilingly, shaking
hands with Burbank, in
the Dock-square omnibus,
as he held out his
five dexter digits towards
her.
“Fare, ma'am!” said
he, in reply to her inquiry.
“Well, I 'm shore,
I 'm glad of it, and
how are the folks at home?”
“Fare, ma'am!” continued he, still extending his hand.
The passengers were interested.
“How do you like Boston?” screamed she, as the
omnibus rattled over the stones.
“Fare, ma'am!” shouted he without drawing back his
hand; “I want you to pay me for your ride!”
“O!” murmured she, “I thought it was some one
that knowed me,” and rummaged down in the bottom of
her reticule for a ticket, finding at last five copper cents
tied up in the corner of her handkerchief — the “last
war” handkerchief, with the stars and stripes involved
in it, and the action of the Constitution and Guerriere
first was not withdrawn — there was no allowance made
for mistakes at that counter — and he went out, with a
lighter heart and a heavier pocket, to catch t' other coach.
| Life and sayings of Mrs. Partington and others
of the family | |