Earthly Astonishments by Marthe Jocelyn Page B

train?”
    “Surely,” said Charley. “There’s other museum folk on board too. We’re all moving out for the opening this weekend.”
    Nelly stayed where she was while Charley took Josephine in hand.
    “I will be your Guide to the Fantastical,” he announced, changing his voice to sound impressively like Mr. Walters. “I will show you things you have never seen before….” The train rattled terribly as he led her down the passage.
    “That’s Rosie.” Charley pointed though the window of the next-door compartment. A woman, who seemed oblivious to the motion, was knitting with gray wool.
    “She’s the Bearded Lady. She used to be the Fat Lady too, but she renounced buttered cake and has lost half her employ.”
    “Where’s her beard?”
    “She tucks it into that lacy shawl about her neck and chin. The beard is real, all right. Mr. Walters may be a honey-fuggler, trying on a trick from time to time, but Old Rosie is genuine. I tugged on those prickly whiskers when I was a kid, and she howled like a dog in a rat pit.”
    He opened the door to the compartment.
    “Hey, Rosie! This is Josephine. She’s the new featured exhibition.”
    “How do you do?” said Josephine. Rosie nodded without stopping her needles.
    Lying asleep across Rosie’s feet, his fur vibrating from the motion of the train, was an enormous dog, the color of butterscotch candy.
    “That’s Barker,” said Charley “That’s the beast you’re supposed to go gallivanting about on.”
    “Him?” Josephine stared. His body covered most of the floor between benches. His tail alone seemed at least half her height. How big would he be standing up?
    “Hey, Barker!” called Charley. The dog opened one eye and closed it again with a slight snore. Rosie shifted her knitting needles to one hand and leaned down to give him a pat.
    “He’s a good boy,” she said, clucking softly. “He’s been with me these eleven years.”
    “I don’t think you have a lot to worry about, Jo,” Charley sniggered. “He doesn’t seem to be much of a stallion.”
    Josephine eyed Barker’s tremendous paws, folded neatly over his nose.
    “He could knock me flat with one swat!” she said.
    “Well, then,” answered Charley, with sparkling eyes, “you’d best make friends with him.”
    “How do I do that?”
    “He likes his ears tugged on,” advised Rosie. “Just so.” She demonstrated. Josephine didn’t think she’d dare.
    “Or,” said Charley, “you could let him tug on yours!”
    They returned to the corridor just as the train lurched, tipping Josephine onto her backside with a thump. Charley scooped her up and held her for a moment while the train hammered on.
    “Hey!” Josephine wriggled, as her cheeks flared with warmth. “I’m not a baby.”
    “Don’t be wrathy! I was only saving your life.”
    Charley set her down and turned away. Josephine bent over, pretending to adjust her stocking, while she cooled down. It had been a shock to find herself in Charley’s arms, but he seemed to think nothing of it. He was merely continuing the tour. He poked his neck into another compartment, pushing Josephine in front.
    “This is Eddie,”
    Eddie looked up from reading and smiled with friendly curiosity.
    “Excuse us, Eddie. This here is Josephine. She’s the new one Mr. Walters used to fill up his amusements advertisement.”
    “Ah, yes! Little Jo-Jo. It’s an honor to meet you.” Eddie bowed awkwardly from his sitting position, and blinked soft, brown eyes before returning to his book.
    Josephine clutched Charley’s jacket tail as they held on in the corridor.
    “He seems a comely enough gentleman.” She tried to keep her voice low and yet still be heard above the racket of the wheels. “What does Mr. Walters use him for?”
    “Oh, his face is fine and likely,” said Charley, “but underneath his clothing, his skin is like a prehistoric reptile.”
    “He’s the Alligator Man?”
    “He’s got a horrible ailment,” Charley told