For supper they had catfish, and perch, and trout, and seven-up, and
euchre, and poker, and when the meal was over Mr. P. went out for a
moonlight row upon the lake. He had to make the most of his time, for it
would take him so long to get back to Nassau street, you know. He had
not paddled his scow more than half an hour over the dark but
moon-streaked waters of the lake, when he met with the maiden who, all
night long, by her firefly lamp, doth paddle her light canoe. This
estimable female steered her bark alongside the scow, and to the
startled Mr. P. she said: "Have you my tickets?"
[Illustration]
"Tickets!" cried Mr. P. "Me?--tickets? What tickets?"
"Why, one ticket, of course, on the Norfolk, Petersburg and Richmond
line; and a through ticket from Richmond to New York, by way of
Fredericksburg and Washington. What other tickets could I mean?"
"I know nothing about them," said Mr. P.; "and what can you possibly
want with railroad tickets?"
"Oh, I am going to leave here," said she.
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