“I hope so,” I interrupted; “but I fear I will never be so fortunate.” “Well,” he rejoined, changing his tactics, “I will see the conductor, and see if _he_ don’t make the arrangement for me.” “Very well,” I retorted; “see the conductor. I myself would like to see a conductor with the power and authority to take this seat from me. That conductor would be a living wonder. Barnum would pay handsomely for him.” “Young man,” put in a gentleman behind me, who was also occupying a seat alone, “why don’t you give them the seat? You can sit by me.” “Why don’t _you_?” I retorted. “_You_ can sit by _me_.” “I like to sit by the window,” he responded; “and am not well.” “I, too, am partial to the window,” said I, “and have been at the point of death for a long time, with the toothache and a bad cold. I am quite an invalid.—Now, my friend,” I went on, addressing the gentleman with his _lady_, “why did you come to me, the first one, and ask me to move, when you see that I am a cripple? There are others in the car who occupy whole seats, and who could certainly move more easily than I. Were I the only one, I would willingly resign my seat, for the accommodation of the lady.” “I think you shouldn’t ask _him_ to move,” said a gentleman who sat with another on an opposite seat. “A man with but one leg ought to have some show in the world.” This remark made the first gentleman a little ashamed of himself, and he turned and said to his _lady_: “Come, let us try another car.” They walked to the car-door, and not one offered to surrender his much-loved seat-by-the-window, to accommodate them. Man is naturally a selfish creature, and nowhere is his selfishness brought out in so strong a light as on a railroad car. Do not censure _me_, gentle public, for not relinquishing my seat. This was not the first or last time I was asked to abandon a comfortable seat in a car, after taking the trouble to go early and secure it. It seems that in such cases they always come right to me. I do not know why. It may be that I look young, innocent and verdant; and that they jump to the conclusion that I am one of those persons who, as the poet doesn’t say: “Know _not_ their rights; And, knowing _not_, dare _not_ maintain.” When I saw the two unfortunates about to leave the car, I called them back. “Come,” I said; “you can have my seat. I cannot see a lady in a dilemma, when I can relieve her by making so slight a sacrifice.” And I arose, seized my crutch and was about to walk out from between the seats.