ed.

"Mean to throw out a regular drag net?" says I.

She does. Well, say, if you've ever been to Coney on a good day, when
there was from fifty to a hundred thousand folks circulatin' about,
you've got some notion of what a proposition of that kind means.
Course, I wa'n't goin to tackle the job with any hope of gettin' away
with it; but right there I'm struck with a pleasin' thought.

"Do I gather that I'm to be the Commander Peary of this expedition?"
says I.

It was a unanimous vote that I was.

"Well," says I, "you know you can't carry it through on hot air. It
takes coin to get past the gates in this place."

Aunt Isabella says she's prepared to stand all the expense. And what
do you suppose she passes out? A green five!

"Ah, say, this ain't any Sunday school excursion," says I. "Why, that
wouldn't last us a block. Guess you'll have to dig deeper or call it
off."

She was game, though. She brings up a couple of tens next dip, the
Bishop adds two more, and I heaves in one on my own hook.

"Now understand," says I, "if I'm headin' this procession there mustn't
be any hangin' back or arguin' about the course. Coney's no place for
a quitter, and there's some queer corners in it; but we're lookin' for
a particular party, so we can't skip any. Follow close, don't ask me
fool questions, and everybody keep their eye skinned for Maggie. Is
that clear?"

They said it was.

"Then we're off in a bunch. This way!" says I.

Say, it was almost too good to be true. I hadn't more'n got 'em inside
of Dreamland before they has their mouths open and their eyes popped,
and they was so rattled they didn't know whether they was goin' up or
comin' down. The Bishop grabs me by the elbow, Aunt Isabella gets a
desperate grip on his coat tails, and Dennis hooks two fingers into the
back of her belt. When we lines up like that we has the fat woman
takin' her first camel ride pushed behind the screen. The barkers out
in front of the dime attractions takes one look at us and loses their
voices for a whole minute--and it takes a good deal to choke up one of
them human cyclones. I gives 'em back the merry grin and blazes ahead.

First thing I sees that looks good is the wiggle-waggle brass
staircase, where half of the steps goes up as the other comes down.

"Now, altogether!" says I, feedin' the coupons to the ticket man, and I
runs 'em up against the liver restorer at top speed. Say that
exhibition must have do