As W. was making change in
the baggage room, he missed the basket containing our books and
sundries. Unfortunately the particular word for _basket_ had just
then stepped out. "_Wo ist mein - pannier?_" exclaimed he, giving
them the French synonyme. They shook their heads. "_Wo ist
mein - basket?_" he cried, giving them English; they shook their
heads still harder. "_Wo ist mein - - _" "Whew - w!" shrieked
the steam whistle; "Ding a-ling-ling!" went the bell, and, leaving his
question unfinished, W. ran for the cars.
In our car was an elderly couple, speaking French. The man was
evidently a quiet sort of fellow, who, by long Caudling, had
subdued - whole volcanos into dumbness within him. Little did he think
what eruption fate was preparing. II. sat opposite _his hat_,
which he had placed on the empty seat. There was a tower, or
something, coming; H. rose, turned round, and innocently took a seat
on his chapeau. Such a voice as came out of that meekness personified!
In the twinkling of an eye - for there is a peculiar sensation which a
person experiences in sitting upon, or rather into a hat; ages are
condensed into moments, and between the first yielding of the brittle
top and the final crush and jam, as between the top of a steeple and
the bottom, there is room for a life's reflection to flash through the
mind - in the twinkling of an eye H. agonizingly felt that she was
sitting on a hat, that the hat was being jammed, that it was getting
flat and flatter every second, that the meek man was howling in
French; and she was just thinking of her husband and children when she
started to her feet, and the nightmare was over.
