However, no explanation of such a system can make it seem quite rational to a person who has been used to a more rational system.  If our people had the arranging of it, we should charge extra for securing the place, and then the road would suffer no loss if the purchaser did not occupy it.

The present system encourages good manners—­and also discourages them.  If a young girl has a lower berth and an elderly lady comes in, it is usual for the girl to offer her place to this late comer; and it is usual for the late comer to thank her courteously and take it.  But the thing happens differently sometimes.  When we were ready to leave Bombay my daughter’s satchels were holding possession of her berth—­a lower one.  At the last moment, a middle-aged American lady swarmed into the compartment, followed by native porters laden with her baggage.  She was growling and snarling and scolding, and trying to make herself phenomenally disagreeable; and succeeding.  Without a word, she hoisted the satchels into the hanging shelf, and took possession of that lower berth.

On one of our trips Mr. Smythe and I got out at a station to walk up and down, and when we came back Smythe’s bed was in the hanging shelf and an English cavalry officer was in bed on the sofa which he had lately been occupying.  It was mean to be glad about it, but it is the way we are made; I could not have been gladder if it had been my enemy that had suffered this misfortune.  We all like to see people in trouble, if it doesn’t cost us anything.  I was so happy over Mr. Smythe’s chagrin that I couldn’t go to sleep for thinking of it and enjoying it.  I knew he supposed the officer had committed the robbery himself, whereas without a doubt the officer’s servant had done it without his knowledge.  Mr. Smythe kept this incident warm in his heart, and longed for a chance to get even with somebody for it.  Sometime afterward the opportunity came, in Calcutta.  We were leaving on a 24-hour journey to Darjeeling.  Mr. Barclay, the general superintendent, has made special provision for our accommodation, Mr. Smythe said; so there was no need to hurry about getting to the train; consequently, we were a little late.

When we arrived, the usual immense turmoil and confusion of a great Indian station were in full blast.  It was an immoderately long train, for all the natives of India were going by it somewhither, and the native officials were being pestered to frenzy by belated and anxious people.  They didn’t know where our car was, and couldn’t remember having received any orders about it.  It was a deep disappointment; moreover, it looked as if our half of our party would be left behind altogether.  Then Satan came running and said he had found a compartment with one shelf and one sofa unoccupied, and had made our beds and had stowed our baggage.  We rushed to the place, and just as the train was ready to pull out and the porters were slamming the doors to, all down the line, an officer of the Indian Civil Service, a good friend of ours, put his head in and said:—­