is right in the heart of the holy
land. That part of Indiana was settled by Second Adventists, and they
have sprinkled goodly names all over their heritage. As the train
clattered along, stopping at every station to trade off some people who
were tired of traveling for some other people who were tired of staying
at home, I got out my writing-pad, pointed a pencil, and wondered what
manner of breakfast I would be able to serve for the ever hungry
"Hawkeye" next morning.

I was beginning to think I would have to disguise some "left-overs"
under a new name, as the thrifty housekeeper knows how to do, when my
colleague, my faithful yoke-fellow, who has many a time found for me a
spring of water in the desert place--the Brakeman, came down the aisle
of the car. He glanced at the tablet and pencil as I would look at his
lantern, put my right hand into a cordial compress that abode with my
fingers for ten minutes after he went away, and seating himself easily
on the arm of the seat, put the semaphore all right for me by saying:

"Say, I went to church yesterday."

"Good boy," I said, "and what church did you attend?"

"Guess," was his reply.

"Some Union Mission chapel?" I ventured.

"N-no," he said, "I don't care to run on these branch roads very much. I
don't get a chance to go to church every Sunday, and when I can go, I
like to run on the main line, where your trip is regular, and you make
schedule time, and don't have to wait on connections. I don't care to
run on a branch. Good enough, I reckon, but I don't like it."

"Episcopal?" I guessed.

"Limited express!" he said, "all parlor cars, vestibuled, and two
dollars extra for a seat; fast time, and only stop at the big stations.
Elegant line, but too rich for a brakeman. All the trainmen in uniform;
conductor's punch and lanterns silver-plated; train-boys fenced up by
themselves and not allowed to offer anything but music. Passengers talk
back at the conductor. Trips scheduled through the whole year, so when
you get aboard you know just where you're going and how long it will
take you. Most systematic road in the country and has a mighty nice
class of travel. Never hear of a receiver appointed on that line. But I
didn't ride in the parlor car yesterday."

"Universalist?" I suggested.

"Broad gauge," the Brakeman chuckled; "does too much complimentary
business to be prosperous. Everybody travels on a pass. Conductor
doesn't get a cash fare once in fifty miles.