She did not expect this,
but she asked the porter:
"Do you know where I can get a lunch?"
"Search me," he answered, lounging into a seat. "Ain't no chance betwixt
here and Danville as I knows on."
Zora viewed her plight with a certain dismay--twelve hours without food!
How foolish of her not to have thought of this. The hours passed. She
turned desperately to the gruff conductor.
"Could I buy a lunch from the dining-car?" she inquired.
"No," was the curt reply.
She made herself as comfortable as she could, and tried to put the
matter from her mind. She remembered how, forgotten years ago, she had
often gone a day without eating and thought little of it. Night came
slowly, and she fell to dreaming until the cry came, "Charlotte! Change
cars!" She scrambled out. There was no step to the platform, her bag
was heavy, and the porter was busy helping the white folks to alight.
She saw a dingy lunchroom marked "Colored," but she had no time to go to
it for her train was ready.
There was another colored porter on this, and he was very polite and
affable.
"Yes, Miss; certainly I'll fetch you a lunch--plenty of time." And he
did. It did not look clean but Zora was ravenous.
The white smoker now had few occupants, but the white train crew
proceeded to use the colored coach as a lounging-room and sleeping-car.
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