"
"Hear! Hear!" Jack Ward cried. "I say, Tom, get that off again where
Uncle Jerry can hear it, and you'll always be sure of his vote."
They had reached the rambling old hotel, from the front porch of which
Uncle Jerry himself, surveyed them genially.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," standing up, Tom turned to face the occupants
of the stage, his megaphone, carried merely as a badge of office,
raised like a conductor's baton, "I wish to impress upon your minds
that the building now before you--liberal rates for the season--is
chiefly remarkable for never having sheltered the Father of His
Country."
"Now how do you know that?" Uncle Jerry protested. "Ain't that North
Chamber called the 'Washington room'?"
"Oh, but that's because the first proprietor's first wife occupied that
room--and she was famous for her Washington pie," Tom answered readily.
"I assure you, sir, that any and all information which I shall have the
honor to impart to these strangers within our gates may be relied upon
for its accuracy." He gave the driver the word, and the Folly
continued on its way, stopping presently before a little
story-and-a-half cottage not far below the hotel and on a level with
the street.
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