At a Railway Station

Once, a long time ago, I went to a railway station. I planned to take the ninth train to New York and go on a journey with a friend. Many people were on the platform and they were pushing onto the long passenger train. It was already full. I asked the man at the booing office if I could have two tickets. He answered sharply, “no !” I felt hurt. It was important for me to have the tickets.

I found a railway official and asked him if I could have a place some where in the sleeping-car, but he said sharply, “no! you can’t .the train is full. Don’t trouble me any more.”

I felt very hurt indeed. I said to my friend, “they talked to me like this because they don’t know who I am. If they knew…” but my friend said:

Don’t be foolish. Do you think it would help you to get a seat on the train? There are no empty seats.”

I went up to the same official and said very politely that my mane was Mark Twain. But he only replied:

“I told you not to trouble me any more.”

I said to my friend: “he may not have heard my mane.” But my friend said that official had heard my mane quite clearly, but that he didn’t care, that was all.

Just then I noticed a young porter in a sleeping-car was looking at me. He breathed something in the train conductor’s ear, and the conductor came over to me, removed his cap and said very politely.

“Can I help you, sir? Do you want a place in a sleeping-car?”

“Yes , I certainly do.” I said.

The porter took our case and we got in to the sleeping-car. The porter saw that we were comfortably settled in our places. Then he said, “Now, is anything you want, sir?”

When the porter left I smiled at my friend and said: “well, what do you say now?”

My friend looked ashamed.

“Well,” He said, “you were right, I’m sorry I said all those things to you on the platform. I was foolish, not you. I’m glad I came here with you.”

Just then the porter came to the door again and said:

“Oh, sir, I recognized you at once when I saw you. And I told the conductor so.”

“Really,” I said, and I gave him twice as much as I usually give to a porter. Who am I then?”

“You are Mr. McClellan, of course, the Mayor of New York,” he said and disappeared.