The Breckenridge news. (Cloverport, Ky.) 1876-1955, 1912-05-29

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human history, the sleeping car Is rnt
most shocking-or would be, II we
were not so used to IL. There can be
no doubt that we are the most moral
nation on earth, for we admit II our.
selves. Perhaps we prove IL, too, by
the Arcadian prosperity OF these two
story hotels on wheels, where mis-
cellaneous travellers dwell In com.
plete promiscuity, and sleep almost
side by side, in apartments, or com.
partments, separated only by a plank
and a curtain, and guarded only by
one sleepy negro.
After the fashion OF the famous
country whose inhabitants earned a
meager sustenance by taking In each
others washing. so in Sleeping Car
pathia we attain a meager respecta-
bility by everybody's chaperoning
everybody else.
So topsy-turvied, indeed, are our
notions, once we are aboard train,
that the staterooms alone are regard
ed with suspicion; we question the
motives of those who must have a
room to themselves!-a room with a
real door! that locks
And, now, on this sleeping car, pref
tily named "Snowdrop," scenes were
enacting that would have thrown our
Observation-Disclosures into fits-scenes
which, If we found them in France, or
Japan, we should view with alarm as
almost uncomfortable evidence of the
r.oral obliquity Of those nations.
But this was our own country-the
part of it which admits that it is the
best part-the moralest part, the
staunch middle west. This was ILL
nois. Yet dozens OF cars were behold
ing similar immodesties in chastest
Illinois. and all over the map, thou
sands of people, in hundreds OF cars,
were permitting total strangers to
view preparations which have always,
hitherto, been reserved for the most
intimate and legalized relations.
The porter was deity Transforming
the day-coach into a narrow lane en-
tirely surrounded by draperies. Behind
most of the portieres. fluttering in the
lightest breeze, and peTilously follow.
ing the hasty passer-by, homely Of
fees were being enacted. The popu'
lation of this little town was going tn
bed The porter was putting them to
sleep as if they were children in a
nursery, and he black nanny.
The frail walls of little sanctums
were bullying with the bodies of peo'
pie disrobing in the aisle, with moth.
ing between them and the beholder's
eye but a Clinging curtain that eX.
planned what it did not reveal. From
apertures here and there disembodied
feet were protruding and mysterious
hands were removing shoes and other
things.
Women in risky attire were scoot.
ing to one end of the car, and men In
shirt sleeves, or less, were fastening
to the other.
When Mallory returned to the
"Snowdrop," his ear was greeted by
the thud of dropping shoes. He found
Marjorie being rapidly immured, like
Poe's prisoner, in a Jail of closing
walls.
She was unspeakably i'll at ease,
and by the irony Of custom, the one
person on whom she depended for pro-
lection was the one person whose
contiguity was most alarming-and
all for lack of a brief trialogue, with
a clergyman, as the tertium quid.
When Mallorys careworn face ap'
peared round the edge of the partition
now erected between her and the
abode of Or. and Mrs. Temple, Mar
jorie shivered anew, and asked with
all anxiety:
Did you find a Minister
Perhaps the Recording Angel over
locked Mallory's answer: Not q
damn minister"
When he dropped at Marjorie's side
she edged away from him, pleading:
"Oh, what shall we do?'
He answered dismally and inef
fectively: Well have to go on pre-
tending to be-just friends"
But everybody thinks were mar
rled."
That's SOL" he admitted, with the
imbecility of fatigued hope. They SAT
while listening to the porter slip
ping sheets into place and humping
pillows into cases, a few doors down
the street He would be ready for
them at any moment. Something must
be done, but what? what?