“Are there no rules?”
“Yes, but people in a sleeping-car must expect to be disturbed.”
“Oh, they must. Very well—see me later.”
Four others came in with just as much racket, and they kept their chattering going until eleven o'clock. At half-past eleven the lights were turned down and everybody was ready for sleep. I had been patiently waiting for this. Lying on my back, arms locked over my head and my palate down, I brought a snore which went thundering over that car in a way to open every eye. After two more a man called out.
“Thunder and blazes, but we've got a whale aboard!”
After three more they began to yell at me from every berth. I put in two extra ones, and the porter came down and shook my arm and said:
“Heah—you—stop dat!”
“Colored man!” I said, as I looked up at him, “if you come here and do that again I may fire upon you!”
As soon as he had gone I went back to business. When a man sets out to snore for revenge you'd be surprised to know what a success he can make of it. In five minutes they were calling for the conductor. He came down and parted the curtains and said:
“Hey—you—wake up! You are disturbing the car.