On taking a seat in one of the cars where other passengers had seated themselves, I was ordered out, with the remark, that “Niggers ain’t allowed in here.” Refusing to leave the car, two athletic men, employed by the road, came in at the bidding of the conductor, and, taking me by the collar, dragged me out.
“Where shall I ride?” I asked. “Where you please; but not in these cars,” was the reply. Under ordinary circumstances, I would have declined going by the train. But I had an appointment, and must go. As the signal for starting was given, I reluctantly mounted a flour-barrel in the open freight-car attached to the train, and away we went through the woods.
From my position, I had a very good view of the passengers in the nearest car, and must confess that they did not appear to be the most refined individuals. The majority looked like farmers. There were some drovers, one of whom, with his dog at his feet, sat at the end window: the animal occasionally got upon the seat by the side of its master, when the latter would take him by the ears, and pull him off. The drover seemed to say to me, as he eyed me sitting on the barrel in the hot sun, “You can’t come where my dog is.” At the first stopping-place, a dozen or more laboring-men, employed in repairing the road, got on the train with their pickaxes and shovels. They, too, took seats in a passenger-car. I had a copy of Pope’s poems, and was trying to read “The Essay on Man;” but almost failed, on account of the severity of the sun. However, a gentleman in the car, seeing my condition, took pity on me, and, at the next stopping-place, kindly lent me his umbrella; which was no sooner hoisted than it drew the attention of the drover at one of the end windows, and some of the Irishmen at the other, who set up a jolly laugh at my expense. Up to this time, the conductor had not called on me for my ticket; but, as the train was nearing the place of my destination, he climbed upon the car, came to me, and, holding out his hand, said, “I’ll take your ticket, sir. “I have none,” said I. “Then, I’ll take your fare,” continued he, still holding ont his hand. “How much is it?” I inquired. “A dollar and a quarter,” he replied. “How much do you charge those in the passenger-car?”—“The same,” was the response. “Do you think that I will pay as much as those having comfortable seats? No, sir. I shall do no such thing,” said I. “Then,” said the conductor, “you must get off.”—“Stop your train, and I’ll get off,” I replied. “Do you think I’ll stop these cars for you?”
“Well,” said I, “you can do as you please. I will not pay full fare, and ride on a flour-barrel in the hot sun.”—“Since you make so much fuss about it, give me a dollar, and you may go,” said the conductor. “I’ll do no such thing,” I replied. “Why? Don’t you wish to pay your fare?” asked he. “Yes,” I replied. “I will pay what’s right; but I’ll not pay you a dollar for riding on a flour-barrel in the hot sun.”—“Then, since you feel so terribly bad about it, give me seventy-five cents, and I’ll say no more about it,” said the officer. “No, sir: I shall not do it,” said I. “What do you mean to pay?” asked he. “How much do you charge per hundred for freight?” I asked. “Twenty-five cents per hundred,” answered the conductor. “Then I’ll pay thirty-seven and a-half cents,” said I; “for I weigh one hundred and fifty pounds.” The astonished man eyed me from head to feet; while the drover and the Irish laborers, who were piled up at each window of the passenger-car, appeared not a little amused at what they supposed to be a muss between the conductor and me.
Finally, the officer took a blank account out of his pocket, and said, “Give me thirty-seven and a-half cents, and I’ll set you down as freight.” I paid over the money, and saw myself duly put among the other goods in the freight-car.
A New-York journal is responsible for the following:—
“It is not many months since a colored man came to this city from abroad. A New-York merchant had been in business connection with him for several years; and from that business connection had realized a fortune, and felt that he must treat him kindly. When Sunday came, he invited him to go to church with him. He went; and the merchant took him into his own pew, near the pulpit, in a fashionable church. There was a prominent member of the church near the merchant, who saw this with great amazement. He could not be mistaken: it was a genuine ‘nigger,’ and not a counterfeit. Midway in his sermon, the minister discovered him, and was so confused by it, that he lost his place, and almost broke down.
“After service, the man who sat near the merchant went to him, and in great indignation asked,—
“What does this mean?”
“What does what mean?”