The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1917-04-12
RICHTER LAUDS TRAIN SERVICE OF NEW HAVEN Asserts He Would Much Prefer Travelling on Road to AutOmo-
 billing.
co. E. Richter)


 hopelessly old-fashioned, still I. con- fess that as between travelling by au- tomobile or by train, prefer the train-provided that it's a New Ha. ven train. There are of course, some localities not touched directly by New Haven lines, and to reach these localities grant, the motor car has some advantages, but I really question whether, after all, they are not great CT than the disadvantages, if the New Haven road will bring one within a few miles of his destination, and bus or car is available for the rest of the trip. When, therefore one glances over the map of Connecticut, and per ceives that there are only very few sparsely settled communities which cannot be thus reached by the New Haven, with it's network of lines, it is apparent that I concede little to the gasoline wagon. The New Haven tracks parallel the Sound shore, fairly marking the outline of the beach it. self. They radiate from Hartford like the spokes of a wheel They run out from New Haven like the sections of a lady's fan, or the ribs of a huge palm-leaf.
 Mark you, I am particular in my preference, for the trains of the New Haven. There are other railroads, and each boasts it's greatness, empha- sizing some one point or another. Phoebe Snow tells of the cleanliness of the Lackawanna. The Jersey Gen. tral lauds it's punctuality, the Penn sylvania it's greatness-all have a point or two upon which their adver- Using men lay great stress, but for an all-'round efficient railroad, l stand by our. own New Haven.
 To be sure, now and again the voice of the "knocker'' is heard in the land, and occasionally the New Haven is obliged to bear the brunt of his blows. But say-how much has he travelled upon any other road? Your chronic critic may puff himself up to balloon like proportions, but when he ex- hausts his wind, he is usually flab- by sort Of an object, after all Not long ago I had occasion to visit rela- lives in New Jersey, travelling by 8 famed commuters railroad. Never mind which one it was-I groaned as l entered its cars and thought of
 
 were old wooden coaches, lighted by the Pintsch gas system (and so dimly lighted that I could scarcely see to read my paper). There was no hook for my coat, and nor, ack for my hat and bag. There were old plush cush- ions, marked with the grfrne of 57 or more varieties of hafr-oi1. When we disembarked and my boy looked back, he said. Aren't they cunning little cars, Pop? They look like Ives toy railroad trains" Let some kicking commuter on the New Haven endure something like that just onee-in New Jersey-and perhaps he will have a better appreciation of the service of the New Haven. Were he obliged to endure it just onee-in Connecticut the Public Utilities Commission would soon hear from him. Compare with my experience in Jersey1and, the clean, commodius cars of the New Haven. Nearly all of them are now constructed of steel, sanitary, fire proof and almost collision proof. A Mazda lamp is directly over almost every seat so that the traveller may read as we'll by night as by day, with as great comfort as in @ Morris chair at home. The large, heavy ears ride with almost nc vibration. I hang up my coat, dispose of hand baggage and hat in the rack overhead, and settle back te quiet comfort which nc lux urieus limousine can excel. There are no ruts te jolt me, and no thank you-ma' ams'' to ride with chattering teeth.
 1,o ind fo1 why I prefer the New Haven day coach to the aforesaid limeusine,-I believe that I can ride with far more comfort. As for the second reason, which is akin te the first-I can read better in the raifread ear than in the automobile. "Oh,'' says some enthu- siastic meterist, "whe wants to read in an automobiles" We'll, I de, fer one Perhaps there are not many others like minded say nothing, but either ride by train and enjoy the printed page at the same time, or endure the automobile while longing for the newspaper OF the book remaining unread in an orercoat pocket I am an omniverous reader. I count that day lost whose setting sun does not observe that am in some degree wis CT because I have g1eaned from some printed page a fact or two of which was in ignorance when that days sun rose; it may be a bit of contemporan- eous news, or a page of history of ages gone; perhaps an old classic or possibly a new novel; it may be the latest speculation of a twentieth cen ,tury philosopher or sometimes a few lines from the old Bible-but without reading matter I am lonesome indeed.