The Magnificent Reverend Peter Thomas Stanford, Transatlantic Reformer and Race Man by Barbara McCaskill

Author:Barbara McCaskill
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: University of Georgia Press
Published: 2020-06-14T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOUR

I run away, and travel gratis in a coal box

Well! I had run away; but where was I running to? I had thus far followed the advice of my friend Sam, and to him I applied for additional enlightenment. The result of the interview was that Sam took me down to the railway station, and, putting his hand in his pocket and drawing out fifty cents handed them to me, and at the same time a large parcel of bread and meat, saying that his mother had told him to give them to me. Oh, how I wished at that moment that I had such a mother as Sam’s. To this material assistance was also added, through the medium of Sam, the advice that I should pray to Jesus, and that He would help me and take care of me. To my query as to the whereabouts of Jesus, he replied that He was now in heaven, but that He would come if I wished, and called for Him. Sam was bigger and older than I, but when I got in the car and he said goodbye, I saw that he was crying.

Here I must explain, in order to render intelligible what follows, that the railway carriages in the United States of America, though similar to what they are in England, differ in that they are entered by the passengers at the end instead of at the side, and the carriages are supplied with large stoves to warm them. The coal for the stove is carried in a receptacle or large box placed at the end of the car, and is capable of holding half a ton. The conductor, whose business it is to pass through the train and collect the tickets, came to me, but as I had not gone through the preliminary formality of procuring one, I was ordered to get off at the next station. I told him I was running away but the information made no difference in the plain and positive order I had received. It was extremely cold, but I could not get into the car where it was warmer, and so I sought shelter from the ire of the conductor and the inclemency of the weather in the coal box, shutting down the lid, and thus concealed I could not be found when the train reached the station at which I was to alight.

I heard the conductor ask: “Where is that little nigger?” and the reply of the brakes man, “I have not seen him,” filled me with joy, and on went the train, stopping at a number of stations. I was at length surprised by the raising of the lid of the box, and the thrusting in of a hand, which came in contact with my head. The owner of the hand was evidently as much astonished as myself, for it was immediately withdrawn with an exclamation. Opening the lid wider the man recognised me as being the cause of his

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