So the fellow who skirmishes for the weak road has a hard time of it in
these piping days. Passenger traffic, like kissing, seems to go by favor
nowadays; and how hard the travelling passenger agent works to curry that
favor! He drops off a local at some way-station, there is a smile and
perhaps a cigar for the country-boy who sells tickets there, for the
Interstate folk have not sent any one to prison yet for offering either a
smile or a cigar. The T. P. A. knows that the local agent cannot, under
the rules that govern him, recommend routes that connect with and extend
beyond the line which gives him employment. Still, sometime the country
agent may be approached by a man who demands that a connecting road be
suggested for him, and the T. P. A. can see that man, without even
shutting his eyes. If the country agent will only remember the nice T. P.
A. that the Transcontinental sent in there a month before, and the good
kind of cigars he dispenses, the Transcontinental may get a part of the
haul on a long green ticket. Perhaps the man will be taking his wife, and
there will be two of the long green tickets. Perhaps there will be a whole
party to be routed over the Transcontinental--the T. P. A. can imagine
almost anything as he swings overland in the dreary locals from
way-station to way-station.
Sometimes a wire from his chief quickly changes his schedule. The
Magnificent Knights of the Realm--or some other impressive order of that
sort--are to hold their annual convention at Oshkosh, and the T. P. A.
must hustle down to Bingtown to see that Transcontinental gets the haul of
the delegation that will go to Oshkosh from the bustling little community.
He scurries into Bingtown to locate the officers of the local lodge of the
M. K. O. R. there. On the train there may be a T. P. A. from some rival
system--they are all partners in misery. The Transcontinental man will
probably drop off the opposite side of the train at Bingtown from the
crowded depot platform--it's an old trick of the T. P. A.--and be tearing
over the pages of the Bingtown directory before that train is out of town
again. Once located, the officers of that lodge of M. K. O. R. must be
pleasantly instructed in the advantages of Transcontinental--the speed of
its trains, the safety of its operation, the convenience of its terminals,
the scenic splendors along the way, the excellence of its dining-car
service; all these things are spun with convincing eloquence by the
travelling passenger agent.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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