non-stop train service by both routes.

"This, Sir," said the stranger, as I lowered my paper to help myself
to a proffered roll--"this is one of the Two-Hour trains."

"You don't say," said I politely but not encouragingly.

"Two hours," he repeated impressively.

"Indeed? Two whole hours and not a moment less?" and I returned to my
paper pending the soup's arrival.

"Is it not wonderful," he resumed when I was at his mercy again,
"to be travelling at sixty miles an hour and eating soup at the same
time?"

"Some people eat soup," said I, "and some drink it. For myself, I give
it a miss;" and I returned to the news.

With the fish: "I came up by the breakfast train this morning," said
he, "and I now return by the dining train." He meant by this to give
credit to the Company rather than to himself, but even so it seemed to
fall short of the complete ideal. There was something wanting. It was
luncheon, of course.

"They run luncheon cars too," said he.

"Then there seems to be no reason why you should ever leave the train
at all," I remarked, seeking refuge again in my paper. In spite,
however, of my coldness, he continued to assail me with similar facts