idly about it for a minute, I remembered where I had seen it before.
He was the man who waited for "little missy," and I at once began to hope that she would come again, for I wanted to ask about the holidays, remembering how "fond of fun" she was.
When we came to the South End Square, where I met her first, I looked out, expecting to see the little figure running down the wide path again, and quite willing to wait for it a long time if necessary. But no one was to be seen but two boys and a dog. The car did not stop, and though the conductor looked out that way, his hand was not on the strap, and no smile on his face.
"Don't you wait for the little girl now?" I asked, feeling disappointed at not seeing my pretty friend again.
"I wish I could, ma'am," answered the man, understanding at once, though of course he did not remember me.
"New rules, perhaps?" I added, as he did not explain, but stood fingering his punch, and never minding an old lady, wildly waving her bag at him from the sidewalk.
