Perfect Behavior: A Guide for Ladies and Gentlemen in All Social Crises

But to return to our train. Perhaps by this time the mother and Elmer will have returned and you will be relieved of further investigation as to the cause of the infant’s discomfort. A few minutes later, however, little Elmer will say “Mama, I want the window open.” This request will be duly referred to you via the line of authority. It is then your duty to assume a firm upright stance, with the weight evenly distributed on both feet, and work for twelve minutes and thirty-nine seconds in a terrific struggle to raise the windows. At the end of twelve minutes and forty seconds you will succeed, the window will slowly go up, and the train will at once enter a tunnel, filling the car and you with coal smoke. In the resulting darkness and confusion you should seize little Elmer, throw him quickly out of the open window and make your escape to the gentlemen’s smoking compartment in the rear of your car. In the “smoker” you will find three men. The first of these will be saying “and he told me that a bootlegger he knew had cleaned up a thousand dollars a week since January.” The second will say “Well down where I come from there’s men who never took a drink before prohibition who get drunk all the time now.” The third will say “Well, I tell you, men— the saloon had to go.” Provision for satisfying the “inner man” is now a regular part of the equipment of all modern trains, and about 6:30 or 7 you should leave your companions in the “smoker” and walk through the train until you reach the “diner.” Here you will seat yourself at a table with three other gentlemen, the first of whom will be remarking, as you sit down, “and I know for a fact that this bootlegger is making over fifty thousand dollars a year.”