ticket agent, when Mr. Magee stood again at his cell window.
"She didn't think much of your town," re- sponded Magee; "she intimated that it made her heavy of heart."
"H'm—it ain t much of a place," admitted the man, "though it ain't the general rule with visitors to burst into tears at sight of it. Yes, Upper As- quewan is slow, and no mistake. It gets on my nerves sometimes. Nothing to do but work, work, work, and then lay down and wait for to-morrow. I used to think maybe some day they'd transfer me down to Hooperstown there's moving pic- tures and such goings-on down there. But the railroad never notices you unless you go wrong. Yes, sir, sometimes I want to clear out of this town myself."
"A natural wanderlust," sympathized Mr. Ma- jjee. "You said something just now about Bald- pate Inn—"
"Yes, it's a little more lively in summer, when that's open," answered the agent; "we get a lot of complaints about trunks not coming, from pretty
