We both took a drink, then the train jarred as it got under way and the stranger began to sing a song. The last of the chorus was,
“You get the hatchet and I’ll get the saw
And we’ll cut the legs off our mother in
law.”
Then he said, “We might just as well have another drink.” I drank just a little this time.
“What road are we on?” I asked.
“Well sir, the initials on our private car are B K & E and the number of our stateroom is 17942,” he answered.
“What do the letters stand for?” I asked.
“Balsam, Kepevey and Erysipelas. The company just builds these cars for runaway husbands to make their escape from mother in laws.” Then he sang a few bars of the song in a maudling way and a short time later, was fast asleep. I laid down in the straw, which reeked of the odors of cows and stale liquor. I thought, “God makes the back for the burden.” The clicking of the wheels on the rails lulled me to sleep.
146
