There you
are often uncomfortably crowded in the first-class carriages, and
doubtless would be in a Pullman if there were any, so that if you are
wise, or only well informed, you will give the guard a shilling to
telegraph before leaving London and get you a number on the Rapide from
Calais to Paris.
It is astonishing how quickly knowledge of any such advisable precaution
spreads among even such arrogantly stupid people as first-class
passengers ordinarily are. By the time a certain train had started for
Dover with that friend of the Easy Chair's already mentioned, every soul
in his first-class compartment had telegraphed ahead, and when they
arrived in Calais the earliest Englishman who got past the customs ran
ahead and filled the racks of the carriage with his hand-baggage, so
that the latest Frenchman was obliged to jump up and down and scream,
and perhaps swear in his strange tongue, before he could find room for
his valise, and then calm down and show himself the sweetest and
civilest of men, and especially the obedient humble servant of the
Englishman who had now made a merit of making way for his bag.
At this point the fable teaches that money will not buy everything in
European travel, though some Americans imagine it will. It will not,
for instance, buy comfort or decency, though it will secure privacy in a
French sleeper between Paris and Marseilles either way. For an
augmentation of forty-five francs, or nine dollars, on the price of a
first-class ticket, it will buy you a berth in a small pen which you
must share with another animal, and be tossed hither and yon, night
long, as in the berth of a Bermuda steamer. Second-class passengers in
France or Italy cannot buy a berth in a sleeper for any money, and they
may go hang or stand, for all the International Sleeping-Car Company
cares; and this suggests the question whether in our own free and equal
land the passengers in the ordinary day coaches are ever invited, by the
first call or the last, to share the hospitalities of our dining-cars;
or are these restricted to the proud stomachs of the Pullman passengers?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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