"Oh, pretty near everything. Dancing, ice-cream, trees, jollyers. Was you never out to a park?" "Never with a fellow I didn't know," Daisy replied, in merry equivocation. "Well, then, right here's where you make the break," the chauffeur remarked; adding, sententiously, "it's harder to start anything, the longer you wait." "I won't be with you long," he pursued, after a moment, "if that's all you're worryin' about. I'm supposed to be workin'. I'll take you out to the dance-pavilion and make you acquainted with some of the fellows an' girls. Then I'll have to come back downtown again, and get on my run. I'll come out to the park again for you, about eleven o'clock, and bring you home. How's that get you, youngster?" "It sounds all right," said Daisy, "all except the coming-home part. Do I have to come home with you?" "You bet you do," said the chauffeur stoutly, "or else it's all off." He reached out and drew the auto-door half shut; his mouth tilted up in a dry way, his eye slanted humorously upon her. "All right," Daisy countered, "it's all off, then, if that's how you feel. I don't know as I'd have gone with you anyhow. I--I've got carfare--ten cents carfare--if I should take a notion to go." "How you goin' to find your way?" "Where?" "Park." "How d'you know I'd go to the park?" "I know blame well you'll go there," said the chauffeur, "now I've told you about it. Kiddo, the hay sticks out o' your hair all over. What kind o' farmers was your people?" "The kind that minded their own business." Daisy, with a little swing of her hips, turned away, chin and nose in the air; "Good-night, Mr. City Bug. I'm much obliged for your offer; but if I want to go to the park, I'll pick up some _nice_ fellow uptown and get him to take me. Some _nice_ fellow!" "Here!" the chauffeur jerked out, rattling the door, "jump into this car, you--you--" Daisy went on a few steps; then, just as her intended pilot was about to bang the door shut and start his engine, she turned. "Can I come home with who I like, then, if I go?" she queried, dimpling all over as she wrestled with her merriment. "Yes, blame you!" said the taxicab driver, "you can come home with the Devil, if you like. Come on--get in! Don't keep me here all night, waiting for a dead-head passenger to burn up four mile o' juice on." Daisy stepped in and sat down, warm and flushed and round, right beside him. Then she had a good laugh, and thereby relieved herself. "Take them bughouse streaks often?" her host enquired; his dry-pursed mouth, his careless hat, and his eyes that looked regardlessly ahead through the windshield, giving him, to Daisy, a kind of big-brother aspect--the look of a man to be trusted. "This was easy," he said, presently, as the car rushed away down-street--the speedometer indicating that the speed limit was only being exceeded by ten miles an hour; "dead easy. Ain't you scared, kid? S'posin' I was a murderer or something, after all!"