They were still possessed with excitement over
their narrow escape, and unconscious of offence. One of the women
dropped into the corner seat, and took the little girl on her lap. The
child's dusty boots rubbed against the old gentleman's trousers. He
shifted his position, grunted, and took snuff furiously.
"That was nibby-jibby," observed the old man of the party, while his
eyes wandered round for a seat.
"I declare I thought I should ha' died," panted a robust-looking woman
with a wart on her cheek, and a yard of crape hanging from her bonnet.
"Can't 'een find nowhere to sit, uncle?"
"Reckon I must make shift 'pon your lap, Susannah."
This was said with a chuckle, and the woman tittered.
"What new-fang'd game be this o' the Great Western's? Arms to the
seats, I vow. We'll have to sit intimate, my dears."
"'Tis First Class," one of the young men announced in a chastened
whisper: "I saw it written on the door."
There was a short silence of awe.
"Well!" ejaculated Susannah: "I thought, when first I sat down, that
the cushions felt extraordinary plum.
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