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HARDLY A PLEASURE.
She had found it dull in her city; So had they, in a different mob. She travelled to look for amusement; They travelled to look for a job. She was loaded with fruit and candy, And her section piled with flowers, With magazine, novels, and papers To shorten the weary hours. Her friends came down in a body With farewells merry and sweet, And left her with laughter and kisses, On the broad plush-cushioned seat. She was bored before she started, And the journey was dull and far. “Travelling’s hardly a pleasure!” Said the girl in the palace car.
Then they skulked out in the darkness And crawled in under the cars, To ride on the trucks as best they might, To hang by the chains and bars. None came to see their starting, And their friendliest look that day Was that of a green young brakeman, Who looked the other way. They were hungry before they started, With the hunger that turns to pain— “Travelling’s hardly a pleasure,” Said the three men under the train.
She complained of the smoke and cinders, She complained of the noise and heat, She complained of the table service, She complained of the things to eat. She said it was so expensive, In spite of one’s utmost care; That feeing the porters and waiters Cost as much as a third-class fare. That the seats were dirty and stuffy, That the berths were worse by far. “Travelling’s hardly a pleasure!” Said the girl in the palace car.
They hung on in desperate silence, For a word was a tell-tale shout; Their foul hats low on their bloodshot eyes, To keep the cinders out. The dirt beat hard on their faces, The noise beat hard on their ears, And a moment’s rest to a straining limb Meant the worst of human fears. They clutched and clung in the darkness While the stiffness turned to pain. “Travelling’s hardly a pleasure,” Said the three men under the train.
She stepped airily out in the morning, When the porter had brushed her awhile. She gave him a silver dollar; He gave her an ivory smile. She complained to her friends that morning Of a most distressing dream: “I thought I heard in the darkness A sort of a jolting scream! “I thought I felt in the darkness The great wheels joggle and swing; Travelling’s hardly a pleasure When you dream such a horrible thing!”
They crept shuddering out in the morning, Red spots with the coal’s black stain. “Travelling’s hardly a pleasure!” Said the two men under the train.
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