this to the man at the still open door. But when we had
taken our places and the door was about to close, she sprang forward.
'Hold on!' she said. 'I guess I've as good a right to tempt Providence
as anybody! Don't shet that door! I want to git in.' As she sat down
beside me she said, with the air of one who has done a good deed, 'I
hadn't orter 'a' let you git a ticket for me, but I didn't feel so
squeamy till I got right here. Seems safe enough though, don't it?'

Miss Ross assured her of its safety, and I told her how thoroughly it
had been tested, but suddenly she broke in upon my speech:

'S-h! Why, we're a-goin'! My, how easy!' She seemed for a moment to
hold her breath, and then I saw her hands clutch at the revolving
seat. 'Land sakes, it's tippin'! Mercy on me, I can't stand this!
Say!' to the man in charge, who was just about to begin his 'story of
the wheel,' 'I want to get out! I can't never go no higher. Jest turn
back; please dew.'

To my surprise, he arose and moved toward the door; then with his hand
upon it, he turned.

'It might make you a little dizzy when we reverse the engine, ma'am.
Just close your eyes tight until we stop, and you'll feel all right,
and not so likely to faint when you begin to walk.'

With a sigh of relief and a shudder of terror, she put her
cotton-gloved hands over her eyes, and sat crouched over in a very
wilted attitude; and I was on the point of speaking rather sharply to
the man, when a look in his eye and a rapid gesture somehow restored
my confidence in his ability to manage the car, and we went on
smoothly and silently up.

We had reached the topmost curve before Mrs. Camp moved a finger, and
then Miss Jenrys, gazing out over the wonderful landscape outspread so
far below, uttered a quick exclamation of delight. Then the hands
fell, she started up and looked quickly around, and for a moment stood
with mouth agape and hands thrown out as if for support or balance.
Suddenly she drew a long, relieved breath and dropped back into her
seat. Mrs. Camp was herself again.

'My!' she aspirated; and after another long look all about her, 'Young
man, I declare if I ain't obleged to ye jest as much as if you'd 'a'
minded me.' She ventured near the window, and even put her head out.
'My! they look jest like flies a-walkin'! My! we can't look much to
the angels lookin' down. They go awful jerky.' She said no more until
we were almost at the bottom, then she turned to Miss Ross: