"No, they were coming in this boat, but backed out because they had something else on hand, I believe." "Oh, did they? Well, good-by, I have got to hurry along. I am walking against time." Steve strode on through Newton, and Newton Centre, and Newton Lower Falls, and all the other Newtons, and to his horror he found in each town the same gathering, and went through the same ovation that he had received in Watertown. Had he gone to work and picked out a public holiday? No, he was sure it was not that, and the fact that it was Saturday, and the schools had therefore turned their swarms loose on the suffering country, would not account for all of the crowd in every village. Perhaps there was an extra election going on in that county. What puzzled him most, however, was that all the urchins seemed to expect something of him besides mere amusement, and a pitiable example of dress. He passed close by Joe Lee's at Auburndale; several children ran across the lawn of the famous hostel, and after "sizing him up," went back with expressions of disappointment. The worst trial of all, however, was the battery at Wellesley. He had to go by the Female College, or Ladies' Seminary, and there was a large group of the students of that institution, by the roadside. Steve had never before been afflicted with bashfulness, and did not acknowledge that he was troubled in that way now, but he felt peculiarly alone, and would have given much for another man or just a few less girls. By the terms of his bet he could not run any of the distance; but a giggle almost made him throw up the stakes and break the pace. By a great effort, however, he brazened it out, and even smiled cheerfully. He made a penitent inward resolution never to lean out of the window again when a girl went through the Yard. When more than half way, he stopped to speak with a farmer leaning over the fence by the road. The uncrossed Yankee of the rural districts still clings to a prejudice of his fathers, a prejudice, long since dropped in our more progressive communities, that a man has a right to wear what he chooses and do what he chooses provided he neither shocks nor interferes with any one else. This old farmer looked at Steve with wonder and interest, but did not think it necessary, as had the good citizens of the factory towns, to heap scorn and derision on "de dood." He bowed to the wayfarer, as he would to any well-behaved stranger. "Good afternoon," said Hudson, grateful for this drop of human kindness. "Can you tell me, sir, how far it is to Framingham?" "Wa-al, abaout nigh on to ten mile or more, they call it. There's a train goes pretty soon; ye won't find it so fur in the cars." "Oh, I'm going to walk it," explained Steve, with a smile. "Thet's a powerful long walk, young man. How fur ye come already?" "From Cambridge." "Gosh! Well your legs is young and pretty long, but ye must want suthin to do' pretty bad. Be ye broke or anythin'? Want any victuals?"