I came in. I stole
quietly to a seat behind a pillar. Fred Hencoop was drawing something
on the board, and explaining it. As he drew back and pointed with the
long stick, I saw a splendid caricature of myself pursuing a small
dog with a muff, while a young lady sat quietly in a mud-puddle in the
corner of the black-board, and Fred was saying, with intense gravity:

"This is the man, all tattered and torn, that spattered the maiden all
forlorn. _This_ is the dog that stole the muff. _This_ is the ring he
sent the maid--"

"Muff-in ring," suggested some one, and then they laughed louder than
ever.

I felt that that singing-school was no place for me that evening, and
I stole away as noiselessly as I had entered.

I went home and packed my trunk. The next morning I said to father:

"Give me my share of the profits for the last month," and he gave me
one hundred and thirty dollars. "I am going where no one knows me,
mother, so good-bye. You'll hear from me when I'm settled," and I was
actually off on the nine o'clock New York express.

Every seat was full in every car but one--one seat beside a pretty,
fashionably-dressed young lady was vacant. I stood up against the
wood-box and looked at that seat, as a boy looks at a jar of
peppermint-drops in a candy-store window. After a while I reflected
that these people were all strangers, and, of course, unaware of my
infirmity; this gave me a certain degree of courage. I left the
support of the wood-box and made my way along the aisle until I came
to the vacant seat.

"Miss," I began, politely, but the lady purposely looked the other
way; she had her bag in the place where I wanted to sit, and she
didn't mean to move it, if she could help it. "Miss," I said again, in
a louder tone.

Two or three people looked at us. That confused me; her refusing to
look around confused me; one of my old bad spells began to come on.

"Miss," I whispered, leaning toward her, blushing and embarrassed, "I
would like to know if you are engaged--if--if you are taken, I mean?"

She looked at me then sharp enough.

"Yes, sir, I _am_," she said calmly; "and going to be married next
week."

The passengers began to laugh, and I began to back out. I didn't stop
at the wood-box, but retreated into the next car, where I stood until
my legs ached, and then sat down by an ancient lady, with a long nose,
blue spectacles, and a green veil.

CHAPTER VII.

I MAKE A NARROW ESCAPE.

It is