Paddle her own canoe.'"
"Just so," said Mr. P., "but don't you think that as you are--that is to
say--that not being of corporeal substance--by which I mean having been
so long departed, as it were; or, to speak more plainly--"
"Oh, yes! I know.--Dead, you mean," said the maiden. "But that makes no
difference. They'll be glad enough of a ghost of an example."
"Yes, yes," said Mr. P. "And yet their cause is good enough. I don't see
why they should make up--"
He would have said more, but turning, he saw that the Indian maid,
despairing of her tickets, had gone.
The next day Mr. P. went home himself. He communed with his own soul, as
it were, for a little while, and has no doubt it did him a deal of good.
But it would take so long to get back to his office, you see.
As a cheap watering place, where there are no fancy drives or fancy
horses; no club-houses; no big hotels; no gay company; nor anything to
tempt a man to sacrifice health and money in the empty pursuit of
pleasure, Mr.
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