On the opposite side of the river we entered the cars of the Ohio
Central Railroad, but alas! we had no Mr. Tyson, and no sofas or tables
or balconies, and were again simple members of the public, destined to
enjoy all the tortures of the common cars. These however were in
first-rate style, with velvet seats, and prettily painted, with
brilliant white panelled ceilings; and we here fell in again, to my no
small comfort, with the venders of fruit and literature, or "pedlaring,"
as it is called, which forms a pleasant break in the tedium of a long
journey. I have been often told the reverse, but the literature sold in
this way is, as far as we have seen, rather creditable than otherwise to
the country, being generally of an instructive and useful character.
Many works published quite recently in England, could be bought either
in the cars or at the stores; and some of the better class of English
novels are reprinted in America, and sold at the rate of two or three
shillings a volume. The daily newspapers, sold on the railways, are
numerous; but these, with very few exceptions, are quite unworthy of the
country. In general there are no articles worth reading, for they are
filled with foolish and trashy anecdotes, written, apparently, by
penny-a-liners of the lowest order of ability.
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