ense of rest and peace
descended upon me. I was light-hearted enough to sing; and I did sing
for half an hour, straight along, as we went jogging homeward. Then my
freed tongue found blessed speech again, and the pent talk of many
a weary hour began to gush and flow. It flowed on and on, joyously,
jubilantly, until the fountain was empty and dry. As I wrung my friend's
hand at parting, I said:--

"Haven't we had a royal good time! But now I remember, you haven't said
a word for two hours. Come, come, out with something!"

The Rev. Mr.------ turned a lack-lustre eye upon me, drew a deep sigh,
and said, without animation, without apparent consciousness:

"Punch, brothers, punch with care! Punch in the presence of the
passenjare!"

A pang shot through me as I said to myself, "Poor fellow, poor fellow!
he has got it, now."

I did not see Mr.------ for two or three days after that. Then, on
Tuesday evening, he staggered into my presence and sank dejectedly into
a seat. He was pale, worn; he was a wreck. He lifted his faded eyes to
my face and said:--

"Ah, Mark, it was a ruinous investment that I made in those heartless
rhymes. They have ridden me like a nightmare, day and night, hour after
hour, to this very moment. Since I saw you I have suffered the torments
of the lost. Saturday evening I had a sudden call, by telegraph, and
took the night train for Boston. The occasion was the death of a valued
old friend who had requested that I should preach his funeral sermon. I
took my seat in the cars and set myself to framing the discourse. But I
never got beyond the opening paragraph; for then the train started
and the car-wheels began their 'clack, clack-clack-clack-clack!
clack-clack!--clack-clack-clack!' and right away those odious rhymes
fitted themselves to that accompaniment. For an hour I sat there and
set a syllable of those rhymes to every separate and distinct clack
the car-wheels made. Why, I was as fagged out, then, as if I had been
chopping wood all day. My skull was splitting with headache. It seemed
to me that I must go mad if I sat there any longer; so I undressed and
went to bed. I stretched myself out in my berth, and--well, you
know what the result was. The thing went right along, just the same.
'Clack-clack clack, a blue trip slip, clack-clack-clack, for an
eight-cent fare; clack-clack-clack, a buff trip slip, clack clack-clack, for a
six-cent fare, and so on, and so on, and so on punch in the presence