And even now a small group of the
freer spirits are following my example. In time----"
"If you don't take me away, I'll run in circles!" whispered Bob fiercely
to his friend.
They escaped into the open air.
"Phew!" said Bob, straightening his long form. "Is that what you call
the good society here?"
"Good society is there," amended Baker. "That's the joke. There are lots
of nice people in this little old town, people who lisp our language
fluently. They are all mixed in with the Fuzzies."
They decided to walk home. Bob marvelled at the impressive and
substantial buildings, at the atrocious streets. He spoke of the
beautiful method of illuminating one of the thoroughfares--by globes of
light gracefully supported in clusters on branched arms either side the
roadway.
"They were originally bronze--and they went and painted them a mail-box
green," commented Baker drily.
At the hotel the night clerk, a young man, quietly dressed and with an
engaging air, greeted them with just the right amount of cordiality as
he handed them their keys. Bob paused to look about him.
"This is a good hotel," he remarked.
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