companions evidently thought our conversation frivolous and foolish, and occasionally snorted a disapproving snarl about play-acting. As there are no dining cars attached to this train, meals are served at stated places. At Waycross we get an excellent supper--a thoroughly enjoyable and satisfactory meal. Some of our fellow-travellers, having been deluded into the belief that nothing eatable was to be had on the road, abstracted from the bowels of their baskets stale sandwiches, crumpled buns, and mashed fruits, a delightful provision against starvation, which had got considerably mixed during the journey. We reach Montgomery about eight o’clock in the evening, and there we have to wait two hours for the New Orleans train. It is not often we have these long dreary waits by the wayside; as a rule the correspondence between the trains is arranged so as to avoid this inconvenience. However, we have to wait now, and had best bear the annoyance patiently. We take a walk through the dimly-lighted town, indulge in a little characteristic gossip with the natives, and the time soon passes; it is useless to fret and fume over the unavoidable--travelling has taught us that much. On our return to the “waiting-room” (so called by courtesy, for it is a mere shed with a few wooden benches), our attention is attracted by a young woman who is seated in a dusky corner; she has a fractious child about a year old in her arms, and in a tired voice is telling somebody of the long weary journey she has had, and-- “Now,” she continues, with a low sob in her voice, “I have to go on a common car all the way to New Orleans. I cannot get a sleeping berth; I have just been to the office, and they say they are all taken.” I doubt this, as I have just had a choice of two; I volunteer to go and see what I can do in the matter, and succeed in securing for her the last berth. As soon as we enter the car I see that the woman is _coloured_; perhaps this is the reason of her failure. One or two of our fellow passengers look on her askant, as coloured people are not generally taken on the Pullman cars, but no one was inhuman enough to take exception to her presence. There is a stir, a momentary confusion in finding and settling ourselves in our different sections; if we would only be guided by the calm official mind, we should be guided thereto in less time and with less trouble. We are both tired and sleepy, and in an incredibly short time are in our closely-curtained berths fast asleep, wandering through the land of nod.