"
"All right," said I, and taking hold of the handle I started off. It
was real fun; the bath-chair rolled along beautifully, and I don't
believe the old man weighed much more than my Corinne when I used to
push her about in her baby carriage. We were in a back street, where
there was hardly anybody; and as for Jone and his bath-chair, I could
just see them ever so far ahead, so I started to catch up, and as the
street was pretty level now I soon got going at a fine rate. I hadn't
had a bit of good exercise for a long time, and this warmed me up and
made me feel gay.
[Illustration: "STOP, LADY, AND I'LL GET OUT"]
We was not very far behind Jone when the man began to call to me in a
sort of frightened fashion, as if he thought I was running away.
"Stop, lady!" he said; "we are getting near the gardens, and the people
will laugh at me. Stop, lady, and I'll get out." But I didn't feel a
bit like stopping; the idea had come into my head that it would be
jolly to beat Jone. If I could pass him and sail on ahead for a little
while, then I'd stop and let my old man get out and take his bath-chair
home. I didn't want it any more.
Just as I got close up behind Jone, and was about to make a rush past
him, his man turned into a side street.
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