Clergyman. Is this the first-class section? I think my seat must be in here.
Philosopher. First-class here, sir. Tickets, please. (Aside to correspondent.) A modest gentleman, forsooth.
Clergyman (stops fumbling in his pocket for his tickets and sniffs suspiciously). I smell tobacco. Is there a smoking-car on the first-class train?
Philosopher. There is for those who smoke.
Clergyman. An outrage, sir. An unchristian outrage. I suppose next that you will tell me that intoxicating fluids are sold there.
Philosopher. Yes, sir, to those who use them. All the first-class passengers understand the use of such things in moderation. They are not injured by them.
Clergyman. A flimsy argument, sir. Think of the example. I repeat it, sir; think of the example. I protest against it, sir, as a crime against our highest civilization. I—I will have you removed from office. You are not fit to hold your position. I will see the governor about it immediately. I—I——
Philosopher (to correspondent). He fancies that he is arguing on the liquor question before a board of police commissioners. (To clergyman.) The gentleman will come to order.
Clergyman. I insist on having the smoking and drinking car detached, or I will not ride on the train.
Philosopher. You will not ride in the first-class portion of it, in any event. Your ticket reads "Well-intentioned but overbearing visionary enthusiast." Come, sir, pass on, or, in spite of your cloth, I shall be obliged to put you in charge of an officer for disturbing the peace.