Galloping Mare's Nest.

Christmas without the railway would be equivalent to a smoke-concert by correspondence, an absent Christmas present, chilblains in the Sahara, or an anaemic blood-hound.

The railway train is Optimism's answer to the burning question of existence; it represents presence of mind over clatter, steam over stodge, and the pace that thrills.

Certainly, before the advent of the railway, Christmas was not devoid of entertainment, but it was static entertainment, like getting Santiago, Lumbago or Earache on the radio.

Of course, they had transport of sorts, but it was mostly out of sorts. There were post-chaises which were a kind of telephone box on wheels that always seemed to have got the wrong number.

“An anaemic blood-hound.”

page 15 There were also coaches, or galloping mare's nests, which were handy for shaking things up (and down) at Christmas, and limbering up the liver. This fact explains why the coach's garage was called a livery stable.

The difficulties of travel were greatly responsible for the expansion of the physiology at the expense of the psychology at Christmas. Travel was usually confined to rambling among the vitamins (from A to Z), following the gastric stream to its sauce, sailing through Beering Straight, wallowing in Greece, touring through the Eats and Wets, and seeing Gastronomy first.