It was nearly dark. But
at the tent entrance a tin torch stuck in the ground showed letters
and pictures on the tent, proclaiming that the only pig-headed man in
America was therein exhibiting himself and his accomplishments,
attended by Fairy Carrie, the wonderful child vocalist.
Before Bobaday had made out half the words, he telegraphed a message
to aunt Corinne, by leaning far out of the Brockaway wagon and
lifting his finger. Aunt Corinne was leaning out of the carriage, and
saw him, and she not only lifted her finger, but violently wagged her
head.
The caravan scouts had not been able to find lodging for all the
troops, and there was a great deal of dissatisfaction about the rates
asked by the taverns. So many of the wagons wound on to camp at the
other side of the town, the Brockaways among them. But the neighborly
Virginian, in exchanging Robert for his wife and daughter at the
carriage door, assured Grandma Padgett he would ride back to her
lodging-place next morning and pilot her into the party again.
"I thank you kindly," said Grandma Padgett in old-fashioned phrase.
"It's growing risky for me to sleep too much in the open night air.
At my age folks must favor themselves, and I'd like a bed to-night,
if it is a tavern bed, and a set, table, if the vittles are tavern
vittles.
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