. The great open railway car held about a hundred men and maidens,
"coming up with a song from the sea." They sang and they shouted and
they exchanged witticisms of the most poignant, and comported themselves
like their brothers and sisters over the seas--the 'Arries and 'Arriets
of the older world. And there sat behind me two modest maidens in white,
alone and unattended. To these the privileged youth of the car--a youth
of a marvellous range of voice--proffered undying affection. They
laughed, but made no reply in words. The suit was renewed, and with
extravagant imagery; the nearest seats applauding. When we arrived at
the city the maidens turned and went their way up a dark tree-shaded
street, and the boys elsewhere. Whereat, recollecting what the London
rough was like, I marvelled that they did not pursue. "It's all right,"
said the commercial traveller. "If they had followed--well, I guess some
one would ha' shot 'em." The very next day on those very peaceful cars
returning from the Lake some one was shot--dead. He was what they call a
"sport," which is American for a finished "leg," and he had an argument
with a police officer, and the latter slew him. I saw his funeral go
down the main street. There were nearly thirty carriages, filled with
doubtful men, and women not in the least doubtful, and the local papers
said that deceased had his merits, but it didn't much matter, because if
the Sheriff hadn't dropped him he would assuredly have dropped the
Sheriff. Somehow this jarred on my sensitive feelings, and I went away,
though the commercial traveller would fain have entertained me in his
own house, he knowing not my name. Twice through the long hot nights we
talked, tilting up our chairs on the sidewalk, of the future of America.

You should hear the Saga of the States reeled off by a young and
enthusiastic citizen who had just carved out for himself a home, filled
it with a pretty little wife, and is preparing to embark on commerce on
his own account. I was tempted to believe that pistol-shots were
regrettable accidents and lawlessness only the top scum on the great sea
of humanity. I am tempted to believe that still, though baked and dusty
Utah is very many miles behind me.

Then chance threw me into the arms of another and very different
commercial traveller, as we pulled out of Utah on our way to Omaha _via_
the Rockies. He travelled in biscuits, of which more anon, and Fate had
smitten him very heavily, hav