The Wrong Train

I remember one day leaving Los Angeles by train to go to San Diego. Shortly after we passed Fullerton, my attention was directed to an altercation going on near me. I had observed a little old lady who got on at a station some miles back. My attention was drawn to her because of the great number of bundles she carried. In one hand she had a cage, evidently containing a parrot, some kind of package held by one finger, a grip, and a bag; but she got in and put them all down about her, and filled the entire space where she sat. She was nicely settled when the conductor came around, and said, “Tickets, please.” She handed him her ticket, and he said, “Madam, this is not your train. Your ticket calls for San Bernardino, and you are on the train that goes to San Diego.”
“You needn’t tell me that,” she replied; “I asked a man before I got on, and he told me that this train was going to San Bernardino.”
“Well,” he said, “I am sorry, but you have been the victim of some wrong information, for this train is going to San Diego.”
“I don’t believe it,” she said; “I bought this ticket in good faith, and have taken the train they told me to take.”
“Pardon me,” he replied, “but I am the conductor on this train, and it is going to San Diego. If you want to go to San Bernardino, you will have to get off and take a train back.”
Finally as the train drew near to the next stop, she gathered up her parrot and her packages and bags, declaring that this was an outrage, and that she would report it to the company and have the conductor discharged for putting her off the train. She left, while the rest of the passengers smiled even though they felt sorry for her.
It is not true that if you take a train going north, you will land somewhere in the south. It is not true that if you are on the road leading to everlasting judgment, you will reach heaven. “The labor of the foolish wearieth every one of them, because he knoweth not how to go to the city.”