Habit Hard to Stop

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A few years ago I was living in a suburban town about twelve miles west of St. Louis, Missouri. One night I ran to catch a train to take me there and just managed to swing up on the back platform of the last car as it was pulling out. Feeling lucky that I had just caught it, I settled down for a nap till I reached my station. After about twenty minutes I looked out of the window to see where I was, and found the train was running right by the station at which I wished to get off. So I hurriedly found the conductor and told him I wanted to get off. He looked at me in surprise and said: “Why, what do you think you are on, anyhow? You didn’t get the right train. The local was on the next track. This is the through express and doesn’t stop until it gets to Jefferson City, one hundred and fifty miles from here.” So I went on to Jefferson City and stayed all night.
A great many men have awakened to find themselves in something of the same fix I was in that night. They have started in with some habit without thinking very much about it, supposing they could stop whenever they wanted to, and then have discovered that they were on a “through” train, a force that was carrying them farther than they ever meant to go.
—H. E. Luccock

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