Dr. Burns, finding resistance futile, at length acquiesced and made way
for Miller to pass him.

The colored doctor took up his valise and crossed the platform to the
car ahead. It was an old car, with faded upholstery, from which the
stuffing projected here and there through torn places. Apparently the
floor had not been swept for several days. The dust lay thick upon the
window sills, and the water-cooler, from which he essayed to get a
drink, was filled with stale water which had made no recent acquaintance
with ice. There was no other passenger in the car, and Miller occupied
himself in making a rough calculation of what it would cost the Southern
railroads to haul a whole car for every colored passenger. It was
expensive, to say the least; it would be cheaper, and quite as
considerate of their feelings, to make the negroes walk.

The car was conspicuously labeled at either end with large cards,
similar to those in the other car, except that they bore the word
"Colored" in black letters upon a white background. The author of this
piece of legislation had contrived, with an ingenuity worthy of a better
cause, that not merely should the passengers be separated by the color
line, but that the reason for this division should be kept constantly in
mind. Lest a white man should forget that he was white,--not a very
likely contingency,--these cards would keep him constantly admonished of
the fact; should a colored person endeavor, for a moment, to lose sight
of his disability, these staring signs would remind him continually that
between him and the rest of mankind not of his own color, there was by
law a great gulf fixed.

Having composed himself, Miller had opened a newspaper, and was deep in