After some time they approached the little town where the passengers took
the train for New York. Mrs. Bird, who had taken leave of her friend, held
Charlie fast by the hand, and they entered the cars together. He looked a
little pale and weak from the excitement of parting and the novelty of his
situation. Mrs. Bird, observing his pallid look, placed him on a seat, and
propped him up with shawls and cushions, making him as comfortable as
possible.
The train had not long started, when the conductor came through to inspect
the tickets, and quite started with surprise at seeing Charlie stretched at
full length upon the velvet cushion. "What are you doing here?" exclaimed
he, at the same time shaking him roughly, to arouse him from the slight
slumber into which he had fallen. "Come, get up: you must go out of this."
"What do you mean by such conduct?" asked Mrs. Bird, very much surprised.
"Don't wake him; I've got his ticket; the child is sick."
"I don't care whether he's sick or well--he can't ride in here. We don't
allow niggers to ride in this car, no how you can fix it--so come,
youngster," said he, gruffly, to the now aroused boy, "you must travel out
of this."
"He shall do no such thing," replied Mrs. Bird, in a decided tone; "I've
paid fall price for his ticket, and he shall ride here; you have no legal
right to eject him.
Pages:
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169