We had had a long talk on country and country's needs, and his fervent
"God bless you" at parting was a comfort and encouragement to me, indeed
it was.
At a station we took up some police who had been drinking--one sergeant
was very drunk; then some soldiers who had been drinking, and some
civilians who were in the same state. One fine looking young farmer of
the better sort was fighting drunk. There were sober people and a good
many women also on the car. It was one of those cars whose compartments
are boxed up halfway. The sergeant spilled a box of wafers and felt that
he did not wish to pick them up; another policeman in an overcoat set
himself to gather them up. I heard the young farmer say to him, "You're
a peeler," and in a moment every man in the car was on his feet. We had
not yet left the station, and many women rushed out of the car. The
official came and locked the doors, and we steamed out of the station
with all the men on their feet in a crowd, gesticulating and shouting at
one another at the top of their voices. As they swayed about with the
motion of the carriage, every soldier and constable with his rifle in
his hand, I found myself wondering if they were loaded or could possibly
go off of themselves.
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