'
thrain don't stop is at Mudville-be-th'-Cannery. Ye look into th' folder
an' see ye'er town marked 'see note b.' Note b says: 'Thrains two to
sixteen stop at Mudville on'y whin wrecked.' 'What is th' number iv
this here cannon-ball express?' says ye to th' conductor man. 'Number
twelve,' says he. 'How am I goin' to get off there?' says ye. 'How do ye
usually get off a movin' thrain?' says he. 'Forward or backward?' says
he. 'If ye'll go ahead to th' postal car an' get into a mail bag th'
clerk may hang ye on th' hook as we pass. He's a good shot. He made
three out iv tin last week,' he says.

"But in due time ye reach ye'er destynation an' onpack ye'er thrunks an'
come home again. A frind iv mine, a prom'nent railroad officyal who
calls th' thrains at th' Union deepo, tells me he's cured his wife iv
wantin' to go on a vacation. Whiniver he sees her readin' advertisements
iv th' summer resorts he knows that th' fit is coming on, an' befure she
gets to th' stage iv buyin' a cure f'r freckles he takes her down to
th' deepo an' shows her th' people goin' on their vacations an' comin'
back. Thin he gives her a boat ride in th' park, takes her to th'
theaytre, an' th' next mornin' she wakes up with hardly anny sign iv
her indisposition.

"But th' kind iv vacation I take does ye some good. It is well within me
means. In fact it sildom costs me annything but now an' thin th' thrade
iv a customer that I give a bottle iv pop to whin he ast f'r a gin sour,
not knowin' that at th' minyit I was whilin' me time away in th' Greek
islands or climbin' Mount Vesoovyous. I don't have to carry anny
baggage. I don't pay anny railroad fares. I'm not bothered be mosquitoes
or rain. In fact, it's on rainy days that I thravel most. I'm away most
iv th' time. I suppose me business suffers. But what care I?

"In th' autumn I am pretty apt to be shootin' in th' Rocky Mountains. In
th' winter I am liable to go to Florida or to th' West Indies or to
Monty Carlo. I'm th' on'y American citizen that iver beat Monty Carlo. I
plugged away at number siventeen an' it came up eighty-two times
runnin'. 'Tis thrue I squandhered th' money on th' fickle Countess de
Brie, but aisy came aisy go. Me disappointment was soon f'rgotten among
th' gayeties iv Algeers. I often go up th' Nile because it's handy to
th' Ar-rchey Road. I can get back befure bedtime. In summer I may go to
Newpoort, although it ain't th' place it was whin I first wint there. It
was simpl