The enterprise. [volume] (Harlem, Mont.) 1899-1926, 1912-09-26
CHAPTER II. icontinued.l

CHAPTER II. (Continued.)
He resigned himself to the despot,
and began to transfer his burdens to
the seat But he did nothing to tho
satisfaction of the Englishman. Every
thing must be placed otherwise; the
catch-all here, the portmanteau there,
the Gladstone there, the golfsticks
there, the greatcoat there, the rain
coat there. The porter was putting
Nike donkey-engine, and mutiny was
growing in his heart. His last COM
mission was the hanging up OF the
bowler hat.
He stood on the arm of the seat to
teach the high hook. From here he
paused to glare down with an attempt
1t Irony.
us they anything else?'
mo. You may get down.
The magnificent patronage OF this
svilted the porter completely. He re-
elrned to the lower level, and shut
ned along the aisle in trance. He
was quickly recalled by sharp:
"Pawtah!"
"Yassah!"
What time does this bally train
start?"
''Ten-thutty, sab"
But it's only ten now
"Yassah. It'll be ten-thutty a lit
zs later"
'Do you mean to tell me that I've
got to sit hyah for half an hour-just
waitin'?"
The porter essayed another bit OF
Irony:
WELL" he drawled, Il might tell
the conducta you're ready. And meb-
be he'd start the train. But the time
table says ten-thutty"
He watched the effect of his satire,
but 1t fell back UNDECIDED from the
granite dome of the Englishman,
whose only comment was:
''Oh, never mind. I'll wait"
The porter cast his eyes up in de-
be recalled.
"Oh, pawtah!"
"Yassah!"
Il think we'll put on my slippahs.''
"Wlll we?"
You might hand me that large bag.
No, stupid, the othah one. You might
open It. No, It's in the othah one. All,
that's it. You may set it down"
Mr.. Wedgewood brought forth q
soft cap and a pair of red slippers.
The porter made another effort to
escape, his thoughts as black as his
face. Again the relentless recall:
"Oh, pawtah, think We'll unbutton
my bocts."
He was too weak to u1slrmur Vas
sab" He simply fell on ore knee
and got to work.
There was a witness to his helpless
rage-a newcomer, the American
counterpart of the Englishman in all
that makes travel difficult for the fel-
low travellers. Ira Lathrop was zeal
GUS to resent anything short of per-
lection, quick and loud OF complaint,
apparently impossible to please.
In everything else he was the op-
posite of the Englishman. He was
burly, middle-aged, rough, careless in
attire, careless of speech--as uncouth
and savage as one can we'll be who is
plainly a man of means.
1t was not enough that freeborn
Afro-American should be caught kneel-
ing to an Englishman. But when he
had escaped this penance, and ad-
vanced Hospitality to the newcomer.
he must be greeted with snarl.
Say, are you the porter of this car,
or that mans nurse?"
II can't tell yet. What's 70 num-
ba. please?'
The answer was the ticket.
'NunA,a sem. Heah she is, boss"
Fright next to Tot OF women. I'll
bet. Couldn't you put me in the mems
ond Of the carr"
mot ve'y well, sub. l reckon the
cab Is done sold out"
With a growl Of rage, Ira Lathrop
slammed into the seat his entire hand
baggage, one ancient and rusty valise.
The porter gazed upon him with in
creased depression. The passenger
list had opened inauspicious;y with
two of the worst types OF travellers
che Anglo-Saxon race has developed.
But their anger was not their worst
trait in the porter's eyes. He was In
q limited way, an expert In human
character.
When you meet stranger you re-
veal your own character in what you
ask about his. With some, the first
question is, Who are his people?"
with others. What has he achieved?"
With others, How much Is he WORTH"
Nach gauges his cordially according
~ hls estimate.