The Twenty-Fourth is:
That upon which we rely.
PROVIDENCE.
The Twenty-Fifth is:
A bandmaster's staff and a society girl's cheeks.
BATON ROUGE.
Appropriate prizes—leather traveling bags—are awarded to excursionists who have done the most sight seeing—that is, who have guessed the names of most of the stations. In the mean time small boys in uniform pass through the "parlor cars" dispensing to the passengers such train delectables as popcorn and peanuts, while other uniformed youths pass lemonade in the time-honored tin receptacle with glasses in openings at the side.
Suddenly the station supper gong is sounded and the brisk announcement made, "Twenty minutes for refreshments." Thereupon the lively excursionists proceed in sections to the dining room where the novel feature of the railroad party is cleverly carried out. Along one end of the room is constructed a high lunch counter with every equipment of the metropolitan station. There is the steaming coffee urn, the familiar glass covers under which repose pumpkin pie and doughnuts, old-fashioned cake-stands with fruit, and so on. Bright colored placards on the wall announce the eatables, including chicken and ham sandwiches, stuffed eggs, hokey-pokey ice cream, assorted cakes, coffee, chocolate and milk.
The floral decorations in this "buffet car" are effective. The white cloth that covers the counter and extends to the floor is festooned with strings of smilax and spotted with sprays of fern. On top of the counter is a huge bowl of scarlet roses, and two immense palms behind the lunch counter make a pleasing background. In all the coaches, in fact, flowers and foliage are used in profusion.