THE TWO MISSING NUMBERS.
A CONTRAST.
I.
My friend X. is normally the mildest of men. His temper is under perfect control; and in his favourite part of the angels' advocate he finds palliations and makes allowances for all those defections in the servants of the public which goad men to fury and which, since the War came in to supply incompetence with a cloak and a pretext, have been exasperatingly on the increase. Thus, serene and considerate, has X. gone his uncomplaining way for years.
But yesterday I found him on the kerb in the Strand inarticulate and purple with rage. His face was hardly recognisable, so distorted were those ordinarily placid features. His eyes were fixed on a receding taxi.
Fearing that he might be ill I took his arm; but he flung himself free. "Don't touch me," he said; "I can't bear it." Having reached a point in life when tact is second nature, I waited silently near him until the storm should have passed.
His eyes were still fixed.
After a short time he recovered sufficiently to turn to me and explain.
"I could have killed that fellow," he said.
"What fellow?"
"That taxi-driver. He went by slowly with his flag up and wouldn't look at me. I hailed him, and I know he heard, but he wouldn't look at me. Now I don't mind when they point, or make any kind of sign that they don't want to be hired, or say that they have no petrol, even if I don't believe it; but when they won't turn their heads or pay any attention whatever I could kill them. And there's such a lot of them like that. I swear," he went on, beginning to go purple again—"I swear that, if I had had a revolver just now, I should have shot him. When one man hails another, the man who is hailed must give some kind of an indication. It's only human. Society would fall to pieces if we all behaved like that chap. It's awful, awful! If I'd only thought of taking his number I'd run him in, and I'd carry it to the House of Lords if necessary. Such men—ugh!"
He broke down, smothered by righteous anger.
"Good heavens!" he exclaimed as I was leaving, "if I'd only taken his number! "
II.
The same night a miracle happened. It was very late, and the débris of a little charity performance at an assembly-room had to be cleared away. The last guests had gone—in this or that conveyance, or on our best friends in war-time, the feet—and that hunt for a taxi, which has now taken the place of all other sport, was being prosecuted with more or less energy by a policeman, a loafer and two or three amateurs, all of whom returned at intervals while the packing-up was in progress, to say how hopeless the case was and how independent the men had become.
One passing cab I hailed myself, but he did no more than laugh a loud laugh of mere incivility and ironically remark, "Ter-morrer!" signifying, as I understood it, that nothing on earth should interfere with his homeward journey that night, since he had done enough and was tired, but that on the succeeding day, if I still required his services, he was at my disposal.
The various bags and parcels being now all ready, we waited patiently in the hall, and from time to time received reports as to the progress of the chase.
At last, when things seemed really hopeless, a taxi arrived, driven by a young man in spectacles, which were, I am convinced, part of a disguise covering one of the noblest personalities in the land—some Haroun al Raschid, filled with pity for lost Londoners, who is devoting his life to redressing the wrongs inflicted upon poor humanity by taxi tyrants—for he said nothing about having no petrol, nothing about the lateness of the hour, nothing about the direction in which we wished to go, but quietly and efficiently helped to get the things in and on the cab; and then drove swiftly away, and when we got to the other end insisted on carrying some of the bundles up three flights of stairs, and had no objection to make when asked to wait a little longer and go on elsewhere.
All this time I was, I need hardly say, in a dream. Could it be true? Could it?
And when he was at last paid off he said both "Good night" and "Thank you," although it was I in whom gratitude should have thus vocally burned. Perhaps it did; I was too dazed to remember.
How I wish I had taken his number, that all the world might know it and look for it, assured of a gentleman on the box!
III.
So you see there are both kinds of taxi-drivers still—only the bad ones are more difficult to get hold of.
Caveat Emptor.
"Leopard for Sale.—A full grown animal, about 6-1/2 feet. Purchaser will have to make his own arrangements for removal."—The Statesman (India).
This species of animal being notoriously unable of its own accord to change its spot.
"There are ninety million tons of tea in bond in the United Kingdom. This is sufficient to supply our needs for about fifteen weeks."—Greenock Telegraph.
May we suggest that our contemporary should spare a few tons for the staffs of other journals?
"One Royal Family Member, who has rendered services to 4 big states as also the Government (and yet in service) and obtained a great deal of experience is entirely willing to accept a respectable post either of a Companion or a Household Controller or A.D.C."—Indian Paper.
Can this be TINO?
"Mr. Herbert Samuel asked if the Government would give an undertaking that nothing would be done to expend public money in this connection before the House had had the opportunity of discussing the question?"—Provincial Paper.
Fie, fie, Mr. SAMUEL.
"It is the new magistrates who have broken the ice, and the supporters of both camps are curiously watching to see if they will now find themselves in hot water."—Liverpool Echo.
We thought this sort of thing only happened in the geyser-region.
"Home offered delicate person on small farm; partner pig, poultry, dairy."—Observer.
This ought to cure any delicacy he might start with.