" No one born out of Little Arcady can appraise the
revolutionary character of this circumstance at anything like its true
value.
Further, in the line of vehicular sensationalism, a modish wicker-bodied
phaeton and a minute pony-cart were seen on a pleasant afternoon to
issue from a driveway far up a street that now has a name, but which
used to be adequately identified by saying "up toward the Fair Grounds."
The phaeton was occupied by two ladies, one rather old, to whom a couple
of half-grown children in the pony-cart kissed their hands and shouted.
They were not permitted to follow the phaeton, however, as they seemed
to have wished. Its shock-headed pony, driven by an aged negro who
scolded both children with a worn and practised garrulity, was turned in
another direction. One of the children, a little dark-faced girl of
eight or nine, called "Little Miss" by the driver, was repeatedly
threatened in the fiercest tone by him because of her perilous twistings
to look back at the phaeton. The cart was followed by a liver-and-white
setter; a young dog, it seemed, from his frenzied caperings and his
manner of appearing to think of something else in the midst of every
important moment.
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