ne the rubbernecks good! First we was all
jolted up in a heap, then we was strung out like a yard of
frankfurters; but I kept 'em at it until we gets to the top. Aunt
Isabella has lost her breath and her bonnet has slid over one ear, the
Bishop is red in the face, and Dennis is puffin' like a freight engine.

"No Maggie here," says I. "We'll try somewhere else."

No. 2 on the event card was the water chutes, and while we was slidin'
up on the escalator they has a chance to catch their wind. They didn't
get any more'n they needed though; for just as Aunt Isabella has
started to ask the platform man if he'd seen anything of Maggie Whaley,
a boat comes up on the cogs, and I yells for 'em to jump in quick. The
next thing they knew we was scootin' down that slide at the rate of a
hundred miles an hour, with three of us holdin' onto our hats, and one
lettin' out forty squeals to the minute.

"O-o-o o-o-o!" says Aunt Isabella, as we hits the water and does the
bounding bounce.

"That's right," says I; "let 'em know you're here. It's the style."

Before they've recovered from the chute ride I've hustled 'em over to
one of them scenic railroads, where you're yanked up feet first a
hundred feet or so, and then shot down through painted canvas mountains
for about a mile. Say, it was a hummer, too! I don't know what there
is about travellin' fast; but it always warms up my blood, and about
the third trip I feels like sendin' out yelps of joy.

Course, I didn't expect it would have any such effect on the Bishop;
but as we went slammin' around a sharp corner I gets a look at his
face. And would you believe it, he's wearin' a reg'lar breakfast food
grin! Next plunge we take I hears a whoop from the back seat, and I
knows that Dennis has caught it, too.

I was afraid maybe the old girl has fainted; but when we brings up at
the bottom and I has a chance to turn around, I finds her still
grippin' the car seat, her feet planted firm, and a kind of wild,
reckless look in her eyes.

"We did that last lap a little rapid," says I. "Maybe we ought to
cover the ground again, just to be sure we didn't miss Maggie. How
about repeatin' eh?"

"I--I wouldn't mind," says she.

"Good!" says I. "Percy, send her off for another spiel."

And we encores the performance, with Dennis givin' the Donnybrook call,
and the smile on the Bishop's face growin' wider and wider. Fun? I've
done them same stunts with a gang of real sporting