The other day, while on my way from Kansas City to St. Louis, in a day coach, I lost my seat to two ladies, who, disregarding my suit case and coat, had taken possession while I was in the rear getting a drink of water. This I did not mind, as there were plenty of seats vacant. Soon after the newcomers had arrived they began to buy and eat fruit, using a time-table which I had secured and marked for my convenience, as a receptacle for the peelings and seed. This annoyed me just a little, for I could not get a fresh one until I reached the end of my journey, but I said nothing. An hour later, after I had taken a short nap and lost the run of the stations, I desired to consult my schedule. Looking over the way, I found that the younger woman had disappeared, leaving her companion, an old lady dressed in heavy black, wearing on her head an antiquated split bonnet. Thinking of nothing but my time-table, I got up and went to where the aged traveler sat and, without much ado, reached down and picked it up. My intention was to steal away unobserved, so that the woman would not feel called upon to offer an apology for taking my seat, but I was foiled. As I lifted the book a cold, bony, clammy hand shot from beneath a black sleeve and fastened my wrist with a vice-like grip. The turn was so sudden and so unexpected that I lost my equilibrium. “My time-table, good lady, is all that I want,” said I, as meekly as possible. “It’s mine,” was the sharp reply, the hand closing on my wrist. “I beg your pardon, madam, but I have carried that folder for two days.” “You hain’t no sich thing, fur I got it this mornin’.” “I do not like to dispute your word, madam, but I left this book on this seat and it was here when you came this morning.” “You’re just a tellin’ what ain’t so, an’ I don’t lak to be meddled wid by no man wid yaller shoes.” “O, I see it is my shoes you do not like!” “No, I don’t lak you ner none lak you. What you got on that long thing fur?” I wore a long automobile coat, or duster, to protect my clothes, and the old lady did not like that. Seeing what a tempest I had stirred, I decided to fight it out just for fun. “Madam, you wouldn’t mind my taking my suit case out of here so that you could have more room for your feet?” “No. It hain’t got no bizness in here nohow.” “Why, my dear, I know it hasn’t,” said I. “I ain’t none of your dear, an’ don’t you call me that nuther.” “Pardon me, sister, but I meant to be pleasant to you.” “I wouldn’t choose any of your pleasantness. It’s just lak you drummer chaps. I’ve heard of your doin’s before.” She thought I was a knight of the grip, and feared that I would flirt with her. That was interesting. “My coat--that’s it hanging there above your head, where I put it before you took my seat.” “’Tain’t your seat! How come it your seat?”