Timothy Crump's Ward: A Story of American Life, Jr. Horatio Alger [best free ereader .txt] 📗

with which the nurse had inspired her.

“Yes, and that is not all; we are going still further,” said the nurse.

“Are we going further?” asked Ida, her eyes sparkling. “Where are we going?”

“To a town on the line of the railroad.”

“And shall we ride in the cars?” asked the child, with animation.

“Yes, didn't you ever ride in the cars before?”

“No, never.”

“I think you will like it.”

“Oh, I know I shall. How fast do the cars go?”

“Oh, a good many miles an hour,—maybe thirty.”

“And how long will it take us to go to the place you are going to carry me to!”

“I don't know exactly,—perhaps two hours.”

“Two whole hours in the cars!” exclaimed Ida. “How much I shall have to tell father and Jack when I get back.”

“So you will,” said Mrs. Hardwick, with an unaccountable smile, “when you get back.”

There was something peculiar in her tone as she pronounced these last words, but Ida did not notice it.

So Ida, despite her company, actually enjoyed, in her bright anticipation, a keen sense of pleasure.

“Are we most there?” she asked, after riding about two hours.

“It won't be long,” said the nurse.

“We must have come ever so many miles,” said Ida.

An hour passed. She amused herself by gazing out of the car windows at the towns which seemed to flit by. At length, both Ida and her nurse became hungry.

The nurse beckoned to her side a boy who was going through the cars selling apples and seed-cakes, and inquired their price.

“The apples are two cents apiece, ma'am, and the cakes a cent apiece.”

Ida, who had been looking out of the window, turned suddenly round, and exclaimed, in great astonishment; “Why, William Fitts, is that you?”

“Why, Ida, where did you come from?” asked the boy, his surprise equalling her own.

The nurse bit her lips in vexation at this unexpected recognition.

“I'm making a little journey with her,” indicating Mrs. Hardwick.

“So you're going to Philadelphia,” said the boy.

“To Philadelphia!” said Ida, in surprise. “Not that I know of.”

“Why, you're most there now.”

“Are we, Mrs. Hardwick?” asked Ida, looking in her companion's face.

“It isn't far from there where we're going,” said the nurse, shortly. “Boy, I'll take two of your apples and four seed-cakes. And now you'd better go along, for there's somebody by the stove that looks as if he wanted to buy of you.”

William looked back as if he would like to question Ida farther, but her companion looked forbidding, and he passed on reluctantly.

“Who is that boy?” asked the nurse, abruptly.

“His name is William Fitts.”

“Where did you get acquainted with him?”

“He went to school with Jack, so I used to see him sometimes.”

“With Jack! Who's Jack?”

“What! Don't you know Jack, brother Jack?” asked Ida, in childish surprise.

“O yes,” replied the nurse, recollecting herself; “I didn't think of him.”

“He's a first-rate boy, William is,” said Ida, who was disposed to be communicative. “He's good to his mother. You see his mother is sick most of the time, and can't do much; and he's got a little sister, she ain't more than four or five years old—and William supports them by selling things. He's only sixteen; isn't he a smart boy?”

“Yes;” said the nurse, mechanically.

“Some time,” continued Ida, “I hope I shall be able to earn something for father and mother, so they won't be obliged to work so hard.”

“What could you do?” asked the nurse, curiously.

“I don't know as I could do much,” said Ida, modestly; “but when I have practised more, perhaps I could draw pictures that people would buy.”

“So you know how to draw?”

“Yes, I've been taking lessons for over a year.”

“And how do you like it?”

“Oh, ever so much! I like it a good deal better than music.”

“Do you know anything of that?”

“Yes, I can play a few easy pieces.”

Mrs. Hardwick looked surprised, and regarded her young charge with curiosity.

“Have you got any of your drawings with you?” she asked.

“No, I didn't bring any.”

“I wish you had; the lady we are going to see would have liked to see some of them.”

“Are we going to see a lady?”

“Yes, didn't your mother tell you?”

“Yes, I believe she said something about a lady that was interested in me.”

“That's the one.”

“Where does she live? When shall we get there?”

“We shall get there before very long.”

“And shall we come back to New York to-night?”

“No, it wouldn't leave us any time to stay. Besides, I feel tired and want to rest; don't you?”

“I do feel a little tired,” acknowledged Ida.

“Philadelphia!” announced the conductor, opening the car-door.

“We get out, here,” said the nurse. “Keep close to me, or you may get lost. Perhaps you had better take hold of my hand.”

“When are you coming back, Ida?” asked William Fitts, coming up to her with his basket on his arm.

“Mrs. Hardwick says we sha'n't go back till to-morrow.”

“Come, Ida,” said the nurse, sharply. “We must hurry along.”

“Good-by, William,” said Ida. “If you see Jack, just tell him you saw me.”

“Yes, I will,” was the reply.

“I wonder who that woman is with Ida,” thought the boy. “I