had a locomotive and one car. There were six of us on
the train--namely, the engineer and stoker on the locomotive; while
following were the conductor, a brakeman at each end of the car, and the
pastor of a heap of ashes on Schermerhorn street, Brooklyn. "When shall we
get to Dayton?" we asked. "Half-past nine o'clock!" responded the
conductor. "Absurd!" we said; "no audience will wait till half-past nine at
night for a lecturer."

Away we flew. The car, having such a light load, frisked and kicked, and
made merry of a journey that to us was becoming very grave. Going round a
sharp curve at break-neck speed, we felt inclined to suggest to the
conductor that it would make no especial difference if we did not get to
Dayton till a quarter to ten. The night was cold, and the hard ground
thundered and cracked. The bridges, instead of roaring, as is their wont,
had no time to give any more than a grunt as we struck them and passed on.
At times it was so rough we were in doubt as to whether we were on the
track or taking a short cut across the field to get to our destination a
little sooner. The flagmen would hastily open their windows and look at the
screeching train. The whistle blew wildly, not so much to give the villages
warning as to let them know that something terrible had gone through.
Stopped to take in wood and water. A crusty old man crawled out of a depot,
and said to the engineer, "Jim, what on earth is the matter?" "Don't know,"
said Jim; "that fellow in the car yonder is bound to get to Dayton, and we
are putting things through." Brakes lifted, bell rung, and off again. Amid
the rush and pitch of the train there was no chance to prepare our toilet,
and no looking-glass, and it was quite certain that we would have to step
from the train immediately into the lecturing hall. We were unfit to be
seen. We were sure our hair was parted in five or six different places, and
that the cinders had put our face in mourning, and that something must be
done. What time we could spare from holding on to the bouncing seat we gave
to our toilet, and the arrangements we made, though far from satisfactory,
satisfied our conscience that we had done what we could. A button broke as
we were fastening our collar--indeed, a button always does break when you
are in a hurry and nobody to sew it on. "How long before we get there?" we
anxiously asked. "I have miscalculated," said the conductor; "we cannot
get there till five minutes of ten o