exchange the steamer for the
cars, and she thought he had better remain near her.

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."

"I've got no time to jaw about rights, legal or illegal--all I care to know
is, that I've my orders not to let niggers ride in these cars, and I expect
to obey, so you see there is no use to make any fuss about it."

"Charlie," said Mrs. Bird, "sit here;" and she moved aside, so as to seat
him between herself and the window. "Now," said she, "move him if you think
best."

"I'll tell you what it is, old woman," doggedly remarked the conductor:
"you can't play that game with me. I've made up my mind that no more
niggers shall ride in this car, and I'll have him out of here, cost what it
may."

The passengers now began to cluster around the contending parties, and to
take sides in the controversy. In the end, the conductor stopped the train,
and called in one or two of the Irish brake-men to assist him, if
necessary, in enforcing his orders.

"You had better let the boy go into the negro car, madam," said one of the
gentlemen, respectfully; "it is perfectly useless to contend with these
ruffians. I sa