The Progressive West Virginian. [volume] (Williamson, W. Va.) 1911-1913, 1912-07-25
CHAPTER Il. Continued

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
like 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
reach the high hook. From here he
paused to glare down with an attempt
at irony.
rs they anything else?"
No, You may get down.
The magnificent patronage OF this
wilted the porter completely. He re-
turned to the lower level, and shut
fed along the aisle in a trance. He
was quickly recalled by sharp:
"Pawtah!"
"Yassah!"
What time does this bally train
start?"
'Ten-thutty, sah."
But It's only ten now"
"Yassah. It'll be ten-thutty q lit
tie later"
do you mean to tell me that I've
got to sit hyah for half an hour-1ust
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 it 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-
spair, and turned away once more to
be recalled.
"Oh, pawtahI"
"Yassah!"
Il think wen put on my slippahs."
"Will WEI"
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 1t down"
Mr. Wedgewood brought forth q
soft cap and g pair Of red slippers.
The porter made another effort to
escape, his thoughts as black as his
face. Again the relentless recall:
ooh, pawtah, | think we'll unbutton
my boots
He was too weak to murmur Vas
sah." He simply fell on one knee
and got to work.
There was witness to his helpless
Tage-a newcomer, the American
counterpart of the Englishman In all
that makes travel difficult for the fell
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 speech2-as uncouth
and savage as one can well be who is
plainly man of means.
1t was not enough that a 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 anarl.
Say, are you the porter of this car,
or that mans nurse?"
Il can't tell yet What's yo' num-
ba, please?"
The answer was the ticket
'Numba sem. Heah she is, boss"
fright next to lot OF women, I'll
bet Couldn't you put me in the mems
end of the carr"
mot ve'y well, sub. | 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 inauspiciously with
two of the worst types OF travellers
the 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?'
Each gauges his cordially according
to his estimate.
The porter was not curious on any
OF these points. He ghowed a demo
cratic Indifference to them. His one
vital inquiry was:
HOW much Will he tip?'
His inspection of his first two
charges promised small returns He
buttoned up his cordiality. and de-
i termfned to waste upon them the tr-
reducible minimum Of attention
It would take at least a bridal
couple to retsore the balance. But
bridal couples in their first bloom
rarely fell to the lot OF that porter. for
what bridal couple wants to lock it.
self In with a crowd of passengers for
the fffst seventy-two hours OF welded
bliss?
The porter banished the hope as a
vanity. Little he knew how eagerly
the young eastaways from that
wrecked taxicab desired to be a bridal
poupie. and to catch this train.