" Our boys, or Max, or even Murray
Unsworth would have said, "Oh, come now, Betty!" and just slipped the
cushion behind me, and I'd have enjoyed it, and made no more fuss. But
not so this individual. He looked helplessly at me for a minute, then
laid the cushion down on his mother's travelling satchel; and there it
reclined until we reached Boston.
'Twas the same way with getting me things to eat. With all the
excitement that morning, I had very little appetite for breakfast, so
by lunch time I was _very_ hungry; and when Mrs. Erveng opened her box
of sandwiches, I felt as if I could have eaten every one in it,--but of
course I didn't. They were delicious; but, oh, so small and thin!
Mr. Erveng did not take any,--he never takes a mid-day meal. Mrs.
Erveng ate two, trifling with the second one as if tired of it. I ate
three,--when a _dozen_ would not have been too many! Hilliard disposed
of four, and then went out to get his mother a cup of tea,--I suspect
he had something more to eat in the restaurant. He asked, in a tone as
if he meant it, "Mayn't I bring you a cup of tea?"
But I despise tea, so I answered, "No, I thank you," for the second
time.
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