Some years ago, when the bedding was not supposed to be as fat as it ought to be, and the pillows were accused of being constructed upon the homoeopathic principle, a New Englander got on a car one night.  Now, it is a remarkable fact that a New Englander never goes to sleep in one of these cars.  He lies awake all night, thinking how he can improve upon every device and patent in sight. [Laughter.] He poked his head out of the upper berth at midnight, hailed the porter and said, “Say, have you got such a thing as a corkscrew about you?” “We don’t ‘low no drinkin’ sperits aboa’d these yer cars, sah,” was the reply. “’Tain’t that,” said the Yankee, “but I want to get hold onto one of your pillows that has kind of worked its way into my ear.” [Loud laughter.] The pillows have since been enlarged.

I notice that, in the general comprehensiveness of the sentiment which follows this toast, you allude to that large and liberal class of patrons, active though defunct, known as “deadheads.”  It is said to be a quotation from Shakespeare.  That is a revelation.  It proves conclusively that Shakespeare must at one time have resided in the State of Missouri.  It is well-known that the term was derived from a practice upon a Missouri railroad, where, by a decision of the courts, the railroad company had been held liable in heavy damages in case of accidents where a passenger lost an arm or a leg, but when he was killed outright his friends seldom sued, and he never did; and the company never lost any money in such cases.  In fact, a grateful mother-in-law would occasionally pay the company a bonus.  The conductors on that railroad were all armed with hatchets, and in case of an accident they were instructed to go around and knock every wounded passenger in the head, thus saving the company large amounts of money; and these were reported to the general office as “deadheads,” and in railway circles the term has ever since been applied to passengers where no money consideration is involved. [Laughter.]

One might suppose, from the manifestations around these tables for the first three hours to-night, that the toast “Internal Improvements” referred more especially to the benefiting of the true inwardness of the New England men; but I see that the sentiment which follows contains much more than human stomachs, and covers much more ground than cars.  It soars into the realms of invention.  Unfortunately the genius of invention is always accompanied by the demon of unrest.  A New England Yankee can never let well enough alone.  I have always supposed him to be the person specially alluded to in Scripture as the man who has found out many inventions.  If he were a Chinese Pagan, he would invent a new kind of Joss to worship every week.  You get married and settle down in your home.  You are delighted with everything about you.  You rest in blissful ignorance of the terrible discomforts that surround you, until a Yankee friend comes to visit you.