Before we fairly begin the journey we want to consider what belongs to good manners at the station.

If the waiting-room is crowded, and there are not seats for all, the young ought cheerfully to give place to older people, especially to old ladies and to mothers with little children in their arms. There is often opportunity here to show little courtesies to others which may brighten their whole day.

To amuse a fretful child for a few moments, or bring it a glass of water when the mother cannot leave other children to do it, or to find the baggage-master and get a trunk checked for a nervous old lady, is a small thing in itself, but it may be more welcome to the receiver under the circumstances than a far greater favor at another time. The comfort or discomfort of a journey is made up of just such small things.

When the ticket window is opened there is no need for us to rush to it or to push aside any one else. Time is given for all to buy their tickets comfortably. We ought, if possible, to hand the exact price of the ticket, and not take the ticket-seller's time to change large bills. For the same reason we should ask for the ticket in the briefest sentence we can frame, and if a question is necessary, put it in the most business-like manner, and thank him for the information given.

We should not attempt to get on the cars while others are getting off: it hinders them and ourselves, and nothing is gained by such unbecoming haste. The much-ridiculed American hurry is well illustrated by a company of people crowding up the steps while another company is crowding down. When we leave the cars it is better to wait until they come to a full stop before rising from our seats. We shall be likely to get out as soon as if we went swaying down the aisle, crowding other people, and in danger of falling headlong when the train finally stops.

What has been said about obtaining seats at places of amusement applies to seats in cars as well. Those who come first have the first choice; but we should not forget good manners in the choosing. We have no right to more room than we pay for, and, unless there are plenty of unoccupied seats, it is rude and selfish to spread out our parcels and wraps so as to discourage any one from asking to sit beside us; yet a well-dressed woman, with her possessions unconcernedly arranged on a seat facing her, ignoring the fact that others are standing in the aisle, is not an uncommon spectacle.

Courtesy in the cars or in a coach is as binding on us as courtesy in the parlor, and never, perhaps, is it better appreciated than by tired travellers.

Good-breeding does not require a gentleman or a boy to offer his seat to any lady who is standing, but he should never fail to do it to an old lady or one with a child in her arms, or one with an inconvenient package; and it is pleasant to see that fine politeness which prompts its possessor to treat every lady as he would wish his mother or sister treated. A lady should not accept such a civility in silence. We too often see her drop into a seat which a gentleman rises to offer as if it were her right, without a word or even a bow of acknowledgment. Such a person has no right to expect a similar courtesy the second time.

If any one leaves his seat for a time without leaving any piece of property in it to show that it belongs to him, he cannot lawfully claim it on returning; but civility should prevent any one from taking it, if he knows it belongs to another.

In travelling, as everywhere in public, noisy conversation and the "loud laugh that speaks the vacant mind" are offensive to good taste. Constant eating of fruit and peanuts is bad manners, and, as has been said before, it is generally associated with loud talking and laughing and other rude behavior.

On long journeys it is necessary to eat luncheons or even regular meals, but this, done in a well-bred way, is a very different thing from the continual eating indulged in by a certain class of travellers.

We should not sit down beside another without asking if the seat is engaged. If a person asks to sit beside us, we should assent with cordiality, not sullenly gather up our bundles, as we often see people do, impatient at having their selfish ease disturbed. It is polite for a gentleman to offer a lady the seat next the window.

We ought to have our ticket ready when the conductor comes around, and not keep him waiting while we hunt for it in bag or pocket.

If a brakeman raises a window or shuts a door for us, we should thank him; and it is polite to thank the train boy who passes us water. We need not be ill-natured because he puts a magazine or prize package in our lap every half-hour. It is not an uncivil thing to do, and it is just as easy for us to receive it civilly, and say in a pleasant tone that we do not care for it, as to add one more snappish answer to the many given him in the course of a day.

We should be watchful of occasions to show politeness to our fellow-travellers. There may be an old lady not accustomed to travelling, anxious and uneasy, to whom we can be of use. We can ask where she is going, and take the burden off her mind by saying, "I will tell you when we come to it."

A gentlemanly boy will not see a lady trying to open or shut a window or reverse a seat without offering to do it for her, any more than a gentleman would.

We should be patient in answering questions, especially from old people. If we are passing objects of interest with which we are familiar, it is polite to speak of them to a stranger sitting near. If we were journeying in the White Mountain region and were well acquainted with it, a stranger by our side would like to know the names of the different peaks, and to have the historic Willey House pointed out to him. One cheerful, obliging person will add to the comfort of the whole company.

If delays occur on the way, and long periods of waiting, as often happen, we should be patient and cheerful over the matter ourselves, and thus help others to be so. Good-nature is contagious at such times. It is of no use to tire the conductor and brakemen with repeated questions: they are rarely responsible for the delay, which is more vexatious to them than to us.

Places for refreshment on a journey, with the brief time usually allowed, afford opportunities to show one's good or ill breeding. It would be better to have no lunch than to struggle for the best place and loudly demand attention, to the exclusion of others. To bring a cup of tea to an old lady, or to the mother who cannot leave her baby to get it herself, is a slight thing for us to do, but it may be a great favor to them.

In an article on the politeness of French children as compared with boys and girls in America, the writer illustrates what he is saying in this way:—

"I was travelling in a compartment with a little French boy of twelve, the age at which American children, as a rule, deserve killing for their rudeness and general disagreeableness. I sat between him and the open window, and he was eating pears. Now most boys in our country of that age would either have dropped the cores upon the floor or tossed them out of the window, without regard to anybody. But this small gentleman, every time, with a 'Permit me, sir,' said in the most pleasant way, rose and came to the window and dropped them out, and then with a 'Thanks, sir,' quietly took his seat. French children do not take favors as a matter of course and unacknowledged. And when in his seat, if an elderly person came in, he was the very first to rise and offer his place, if it were in the slightest degree more comfortable than another; and the good-nature with which he insisted on the new-comer's taking it was delightful to see."

The writer goes on to say that this was not an exceptional boy, but a fair type of the average French child, and his conduct was a sample of what might be seen anywhere, even among the ragged boys of the street. The reason for this state of things is given in the opening sentences of the article:—

"Politeness, with the French, is a matter of education as well as nature. The French child is taught that lesson from the beginning of its existence, and it is made a part of its life. It is the one thing that is never forgotten, and the lack of it never forgiven."