said Mrs. Farrington, "don't talk like that!
You give me the shivers; say something more lively, quick!"

Patty laughed merrily.

"That was only a passing mood," she said. "Really, I think it's awfully
jolly for us to be scooting along like this, with our lamps shining.
We're just like a great big fire-fly or a dancing will-o'-the-wisp."

"You have a well-trained imagination, Patty," said Mrs. Farrington,
laughing at the girl's quick change from grave to gay. "You can make it
obey your will, can't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Patty demurely, "what's the use of having an
imagination, if you can't make it work for you?"

The car was comfortably lighted inside as well as out, with electric
lamps, and the occupants were, as Mr. Farrington said, as cozy and
homelike as if they were in a gipsy waggon.

Patty laughed at the comparison and said she thought that very few gipsy
waggons had the luxuries and modern appliances of The Fact.

"That may be," said Mr. Farrington, "but you must admit the gipsy waggon
is the more picturesque vehicle. The way they shirr that calico
arrangement around their back door, has long been my admiration."

"It is beautiful," said Patty, "and the way the stove-pipe comes out of
the roof,----"

"And the children's heads out 'most anywhere," added Elise; "yes, it's
certainly picturesque."

"Speaking of gipsy waggons makes me hungry," said Mrs. Farrington. "What
time is it, and how soon shall we reach the Warners'?"

"It's after eight o'clock, my dear," said her husband, "and I'm sure we
can't get there before ten, and then, of course, we won't have dinner at
once, so do let us partake of a little light refreshment."

"Seems to me we are always eating," said Patty, "but I'm free to confess
that I'm about as hungry as a full grown anaconda."

Without reducing their speed, and they were going fairly fast, the
tourists indulged in a picnic luncheon. There was no tea making, but
sandwiches and little cakes and glasses of milk were gratefully accepted.

"This is all very well," said Mrs. Farrington, after supper was over,
"and I wouldn't for a moment have you think that I'm tired or frightened,
or the least mite timid. But if I may have my way, hereafter we'll make
no definite promises to be at any particular place at any particular
time. I wish when you had telephoned, John, you had told the Warners that
we wouldn't arrive until to-morrow. Then we could have stopped somewhere,
and spent the n