It didn't seem nearly such a long way going to the station as coming
from it, but Boggley on his bicycle was there long before me and my
doolie men. We got a train to wherever we were going to about five
o'clock. I had some sandwiches with me, and we got tea handed in at a
station. It tasted of musty straw, and Boggley said the milk wasn't
safe, but the cups made up for everything. Boggley's bore the legend
_Forget-me-not_, and mine _A present for a good girl_ in gilt letters.
About eight o'clock we came to another station--it is quite impossible
to remember their ridiculous names--and got out. It was quite an
important station, and the large refreshment-room had a long table set
for dinner. Lining the walls of the room were tall glass cases filled
with tinned meats, jam, biscuits, and other eatables, for in the
Mofussil provisions are bought at the railway stations. After dinner
Boggley produced a pencil and sheet of paper. "Now," he said, "we must
make a list of provisions wanted." So we sat on the table and laid our
heads together.
"We'll begin with necessaries," said Boggley "Butter."
"Jam," I added, "and cheese."
These being put down, we couldn't think of another single thing.
"Go on," said Boggley, biting his pencil "That can't be all."
"Biscuits," I said with a flash of inspiration, and we chose three
boxes of biscuits, and stuck again.
When the attendant produced a list of provisions kept, we got on
better, and soon had two large wooden boxes packed with things that
sounded as if they might taste good.
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