The accommodation train wandered languidly through the early afternoon
sunshine, stopping at every village and almost every country post-office
on the line; the engine toot-tooting at the road crossings; and, now and
again, at such junctures, a farmer, struggling with a team of prancing
horses, would be seen, or, it might be, a group of school children,
homeward bound from seats of learning. At each station, when the train
came to a stand-still, some passenger, hanging head and elbows out of his
window, like a quilt draped over a chair, would address a citizen on the
platform:

"Hey, Sam, how's Miz Bushkirk?"

"She's wal."

"Where's Milt, this afternoon?"

"Warshing the buggy." Then at the cry, "All 'board"--"See you Sunday over
at Amo."

"You make Milt come. I'll be there, shore. So long."

There was an impatient passenger in the smoker, who found the stoppages at
these wayside hamlets interminable, both in frequency and in the delay at
each of them; and while the dawdling train remained inert, and the moments
passed inactive, his eyes dilated and his hand clenched till the nails bit
his palm; then, when the trucks groaned and the wheels crooned against the
rails once more, he sank back in his seat with sighs of relief. Sometimes
he would get up and pace the aisle until his companion reminded him that
this was not certain to hasten the hour of their arrival at their
destination.