And now we come to that most complex form of travel—the railroad
journey. Let us suppose that instead of attempting to walk to New
York you have elected to go on the “train.” On the day of your
departure you should carefully pack your bag or suitcase, taking
care to strap and lock it securely. You can then immediately
unstrap and unlock it in order to put in the tooth paste and
shaving brush which you forgot to bring from the bathroom.
Arriving at the station promptly on the time scheduled for the
train to depart you will find that because of “daylight saving
time” you have exactly an hour to wait. The time, however, can be
amusingly and economically spent in the station as follows: 11
weighing machines @.01 =.11; 3 weighing machines @.05 =.15; 1
weighing machine (out of order).09; 17 slot machines (chocolate
and gum) @.01 =.17. Total cost—.50, unless, of course, you eat
the chocolate.
Upon the arrival of the train you consult your ticket to find
that you have “lower 9” in car 43. Walking back to the end of the
train and entering car 43 you will find, in berth number 9, a
tired woman and two small children. You will also find a hat box,
a bird cage, a bag of oranges, a bag of orange peelings, a
shoe-box of lunch, a rag doll, a toy balloon, half a “cookie” and
8,000,000 crumbs. The tired woman will then say to you “Are you
the gentleman who has the lower berth?” to which you answer
“Yes.” She will then say “Well say—we’ve got the upper—and I
wonder if you would mind—” “Not at, all,” you reply, “I should be
only too glad to give you my lower.” This is always done.
After you have seated yourself and the train has started the
lady’s little boy will announce, “I want a drink, Mama.” After he
has repeated this eleven times his mother will say to you “I
wonder if you would mind holding the baby while I take Elmer to
get a drink?”
The etiquette of holding babies is somewhat difficult for
bachelors to master at first as there are no hard and fast rules
governing conduct under these circumstances. An easy “hold” for
beginners and one which is difficult for the ordinary baby to
break consists in wrapping the left and right arms firmly around
the center of the child, at the same time clutching the clothing
with the right hand and the toes with the left and praying to God
that the damn thing won’t drop.
In this particular case, after Elmer and his mother have gone
down the aisle after a drink, the baby which you are holding will
at once begin to cry. Now as every mother knows, and especially
those mothers who have had children, a baby does not cry without
some specific reason and all that is necessary in the present
instance is to discover this reason. First of all, the child may
be merely hungry, in which case you should at once ask the porter
to bring you the a la carte menu. You should then carefully go
over the list of dishes with the infant, taking care to spell out
and explain such names as he may not understand. “How would you
like some nice assorted hors d’œuvres?” you say. “Waaaaa!” says
the baby. “No hors d’œuvres,” you say to the waiter. “Some blue
points, perhaps—you know, o-y-s-t-e-r-s?” You might even act out
a blue point or two, as in charades, so that the child will
understand what you mean. In case, however, the baby does not
cease crying after having eaten the first three or four courses,
you should not insist on a salad and a dessert, for probably it
is not hunger which is occasioning the outcry. Perhaps it is a
pin, in which case you should at once bend every effort to the
discovery and removal of the irritant. The most generally
accepted modern way of effecting this consists in passing a large
electro-magnet over every portion of the child’s anatomy and the
pin (if pin there be) will of course at once come to light. Then,
too, many small children cry merely because they have swallowed
something which does not agree with them, such as, for example, a
gold tooth or a shoe horn; the remedy in this case consists in
_immediately_ feeding the child the proper counter irritant.
There is, really, no great mystery about the successful raising
of children and with a few common sense principles, such as
presented above, any mother may relieve herself of a great deal
of useless anxiety. I hope I may be pardoned for a digression
here, but I feel very strongly that “today’s babies are
tomorrow’s citizens” and I do want to see them brought up in the
proper way.
But to return to our train. Perhaps by this time the mother and
Elmer will have returned and you will be relieved of further
investigation as to the cause of the infant’s discomfort. A few
minutes later, however, little Elmer will say “Mama, I want the
window open.” This request will be duly referred to you via the
line of authority. It is then your duty to assume a firm upright
stance, with the weight evenly distributed on both feet, and work
for twelve minutes and thirty-nine seconds in a terrific struggle
to raise the windows. At the end of twelve minutes and forty
seconds you will succeed, the window will slowly go up, and the
train will at once enter a tunnel, filling the car and you with
coal smoke. In the resulting darkness and confusion you should
seize little Elmer, throw him quickly out of the open window and
make your escape to the gentlemen’s smoking compartment in the
rear of your car.
In the “smoker” you will find three men. The first of these will
be saying “and he told me that a bootlegger he knew had cleaned
up a thousand dollars a week since January.” The second will say
“Well down where I come from there’s men who never took a drink
before prohibition who get drunk all the time now.” The third
will say “Well, I tell you, men—the saloon had to go.”
Provision for satisfying the “inner man” is now a regular part of
the equipment of all modern trains, and about 6:30 or 7 you
should leave your companions in the “smoker” and walk through the
train until you reach the “diner.” Here you will seat yourself at
a table with three other gentlemen, the first of whom will be
remarking, as you sit down, “and I know for a fact that this
bootlegger is making over fifty thousand dollars a year.”