“I do not think I get your drift, Mark.  Then does not seem to be any relevancy in what you have said, certainly nothing sad; and yet—­maybe it was the way you said the words—­I never heard anything that sounded so pathetic.  What is—­”

But I heard no more.  I was already far away with my pitiless, heartbreaking “blue trip slip for an eight-cent fare, buff trip slip for a six-cent fare, pink trip slip for a three-cent fare; punch in the presence of the passenjare.”  I do not know what occurred during the other nine miles.  However, all of a sudden Mr.------ laid his hand on my shoulder and shouted: 

“Oh, wake up! wake up! wake up!  Don’t sleep all day!  Here we are at the Tower, man!  I have talked myself deaf and dumb and blind, and never got a response.  Just look at this magnificent autumn landscape!  Look at it! look at it!  Feast your eye on it!  You have traveled; you have seen boaster landscapes elsewhere.  Come, now, deliver an honest opinion.  What do you say to this?”

I sighed wearily; and murmured: 

“A buff trip slip for a six-cent fare, a pink trip slip for a three-cent fare, punch in the presence of the passenjare.”

Rev.  Mr. ------ stood there, very grave, full of concern, apparently, and
looked long at me; then he said: 

“Mark, there is something about this that I cannot understand.  Those are about the same words you said before; there does not seem to be anything in them, and yet they nearly break my heart when you say them.  Punch in the—­how is it they go?”

I began at the beginning and repeated all the lines.

My friend’s face lighted with interest.  He said: 

“Why, what a captivating jingle it is!  It is almost music.  It flows along so nicely.  I have nearly caught the rhymes myself.  Say them over just once more, and then I’ll have them, sure.”

I said them over.   Then Mr. ------ said them.   He made one little
mistake, which I corrected.   The next time and the next he got them
right.   Now a great burden seemed to tumble from my shoulders.   That
torturing jingle departed out of my brain, and a grateful sense of rest
and peace descended upon me.   I was light-hearted enough to sing; and I
did sing for half an hour, straight along, as we went jogging homeward. 
Then my freed tongue found blessed speech again, and the pent talk of
many a weary hour began to gush and flow.   It flowed on and on, joyously,
jubilantly, until the fountain was empty and dry.   As I wrung my friend’s
hand at parting, I said: 

“Haven’t we had a royal good time!  But now I remember, you haven’t said a word for two hours.  Come, come, out with something!”

The Rev.  Mr.------ turned a lack-luster eye upon me, drew a deep sigh,
and said, without animation, without apparent consciousness: 

“Punch, brothers, punch with care!  Punch in the presence of the passenjare!”

A pang shot through me as I said to myself, “Poor fellow, poor fellow! he has got it, now.”