* * * * *

PRESENCE OF MIND.

The train came to one of those sudden stops in which the hush caused
by the contrast between the rattle of the wheels and their silence is
almost painful. During these pauses one is conscious of conversation
in neighbouring compartments, without however hearing any distinct
words.

There were several of us, strangers to each other, who hitherto had
been minding our own business, but under the stress of this untoward
thing became companionable.

A man at each window craned his body out, but withdrew it without
information.

"I hope," said another, "there's not an accident."

"I have always heard," said a fourth, "that in a railway accident
presence of mind is not so valuable as absence of body"--getting off
this ancient pleasantry as though it were his own.

The motionlessness of the train was so absolute as to be
disconcerting; also a scandal. The business of trains, between
stations, is to get on. We had paid our money, not for undue
stoppages, but for movement in the direction of our various goals;
and it was infamous.