across it, we would go up to one of the officials, and ask to be directed to it.
"Please can you tell me," we would say, "the nearest way to the door of the third-class refreshment-room?"
When three o'clock came, and still we had not found the 3.10 train, we became quite anxious about the poor thing, and made inquiries concerning it.
"The 3.10 train to Ober-Ammergau," they said. "Oh, we've not thought about that yet."
"Haven't thought about it!" we exclaimed indignantly. "Well, do for heaven's sake wake up a bit. It is 3.5 now!"
"Yes," they answered, "3.5 in the afternoon; the 3.10 is a night train. Don't you see it's printed in thick type? All the trains between six in the evening and six in the morning are printed in fat figures, and the day trains in thin. You have got plenty of time. Look round after supper."
I do believe I am the most unfortunate man at a timetable that ever was born. I do not think it can be stupidity; for if it were mere stupidity, I should occasionally, now and then, when I was feeling well, not make a mistake. It must be fate.
If there is one train out of forty that goes on "Saturdays only" to some place I want to get to, that is the train I select to travel by on a Friday. On Saturday morning I get up at six, swallow a hasty breakfast, and rush off to catch a return train that goes on every day in the week "except Saturdays."
I go to London, Brighton and South Coast Railway-stations and clamour for South-Eastern trains. On Bank Holidays I forget it is Bank Holiday, and go and sit on draughty platforms for hours, waiting for trains that do not run on Bank Holidays.
