“Oh, wonderful!” said Hazel. “Calumet and Houghton and Hancock! Wonderful! And the boat trip is wonderful! Though I guess I was about the only one that thought so. Everybody else was sick. The captain said it was the roughest trip he’d ever been on, and he had lived on the Great Lakes for forty years. And another time I went across from Chicago to St. Joseph. But that wasn’t so rough. We visited the House of David in Benton Harbor. They wear long beards. We were almost in hysterics, Marjorie Trumbull and I. But the time I went to Petoskey, I went alone.”
“You see a lot of Finns up in that Northern Peninsula,” remarked Chapman.
“Yes, and Sis had a Finnish maid once. She couldn’t hardly understand a word of English. She was a Finn. Sis finally had to let her go. Now she has an Irish girl for a maid and Jennie takes care of the kiddies. Poor little Dickie, my nephew, he’s nearly seven and of course he’s lost all his front teeth. He looks terrible! Teeth do make such a difference! My friends always say they envy me my teeth.”
“Talking about teeth,” said Chapman, “you see this?” He opened his mouth and pointed to a large, dark vacancy where once had dwelt a molar. “I had that one pulled in Milwaukee the day before yesterday. The fella said I better take gas, but I said no. So he said, ‘Well, you must be pretty game.’ I said I faced German shellfire for sixteen months and I guess I ain’t going to be a-scared of a little forceps. Well, he said afterwards that it was one of the toughest teeth he ever pulled. The roots were the size of your little finger. And the tooth itself was full of—”
“I only had one tooth pulled in my life,” said Hazel. “I’d been suffering from rheumatism and somebody suggested that it might be from a tooth, but I couldn’t believe it at first because my teeth are so perfect. But I hadn’t slept in months on account of these pains in my arms and limbs. So finally, just to make sure, I went to a dentist, old Doctor Platt, and he pulled this tooth”—she showed him where it had been—“and my rheumatism disappeared just like that. It was terrible not to be able to sleep because I generally sleep like a log. And I do now, since I got my tooth pulled.”
“I don’t sleep very good on trains,” said Chapman.
“Oh, I do. Probably on account of being so used to it. I slept just beautifully last night. Mildred here insisted on taking the upper. She said if she was where she could look out the window, she never would go to sleep. Personally, I’d just as lief have the upper. I don’t mind it a bit. I like it really better. But this is Mildred’s first long trip and I thought she ought to have her choice. We tried to get a compartment or drawing-room, but they were all gone. Sis and I had a compartment the time we went to New Orleans. I slept in the upper.”
Mildred wished she had gone places so she could take part in the conversation. Mr. Chapman must think she was terribly dumb.
She had nothing to talk about that people would care to hear, and it was kind of hard to keep awake when you weren’t talking yourself, even with such interesting, traveled people to listen to as Mr. Chapman and Hazel. Mr. Chapman was a dandy-looking man and it was terrible to have to appear dumb in front of him.
But after all, she was dumb and Hazel’s erudition made her seem all the dumber. No wonder their new acquaintance had scarcely looked at her since luncheon.
“Have you ever been to San Antone?” Chapman asked his companions.
“Isn’t it wonderful!” Hazel exclaimed. “The Alamo! Wonderful! And those dirty Mexicans! And Salt Lake City is wonderful, too! That temple! And swimming in the lake itself is one of the most fascinating experiences! You know, Mildred, the water is so salt that you can’t sink in it. You just lie right on top of it like it was a floor. You can’t sink. And another wonderful place is Lake Placid. I was going back there last summer with Bess Eldridge, but she was engaged at the time to Harley Bateman, an awfully nice boy when he wasn’t drinking, but perfectly terrible when he’d had a few drinks. He went to college with my brother, to Michigan. Harley tried for the football nine, but the coach hated him. His father was a druggist and owned the first automobile in Berrien County. So we didn’t go to Placid last summer, but I’m going next summer sure. And it’s wonderful in winter, too!”
“It feels funny, where that tooth was,” said Chapman.
“Outside of one experience,” said Hazel, “I’ve never had any trouble with my teeth. I’d been suffering from rheumatism and somebody suggested it might be a bad tooth, but I couldn’t believe it because my teeth are perfect—”
“This was all shot to pieces,” said Chapman.
“But my friends always say they envy me my teeth; my teeth and my complexion. I try to keep my mouth clean and my face clean, and I guess that’s the answer. But it’s hard to keep clean on a train.”
“Where are you going? Out to the coast?”
“Yes. Frisco and then Los Angeles.”
“Don’t call it Frisco in front of them Californians. They don’t like their city to be called Frisco. Is this your first trip out there?”
“No. I was there a good many years ago.”
She turned to Mildred.
“You didn’t know that, did you?” she said. But Mildred was asleep. “Poor Mildred! She’s worn out. She isn’t used to traveling. She’s quite a pretty girl, don’t you think so?”
“Very pretty!”
“Maybe not exactly pretty,” said her friend, “but kind of sweet-looking, like a baby. You’d think
