A LONDON MYSTERY SOLVED.
Everyone must have observed a phenomenon of the London streets which becomes continually more noticeable. And not only must they have observed it, but have suffered from it.
At one time the omnibuses, which are rapidly becoming the only means of street transport for human beings, had regular stopping-places at the corner's of streets, at Piccadilly Circus, at Oxford Circus, and so forth.
The corner was the accepted spot; the crowds gathered there, and the omnibus, stopping there, emptied and refilled. But there has been a gradual tendency towards the abandonment of the corners, causing the omnibuses to pull up farther and farther from them, so that it seems almost as if a time may come when, instead of Piccadilly Circus, for example, the stopping-place for west-bound omnibuses will be St. James's church.
Everyone, as I say, must have noticed this change in traffic habits, and most people believe that police regulations are at the bottom of it.
But I know better; and the reason why I know better is a little conversation I have had with a driver.
It was during one of the finest efforts towards depressing dampness that even this Summer has put up, and the driver dripped. A great crowd of miserable mortals awaited his omnibus at a certain recognised halt, all desperately anxious for a seat or even standing room; but these he disregarded and carefully urged the vehicle on for another twenty yards.
While the wretched people were running along the pavement to begin their struggle for a place, I asked him why he had put them to all that trouble.
"I suppose it's the police," I said, to make it easier for him.
"Not as I know of," he replied.
"But why not stop where the public expect you to?" I asked.
"Why?" he inquired.
"Well, it would be more reasonable, more helpful," I suggested.
"Who wants to help or be reasonable?" he replied. "Here, look at me. I'm driving this bus for hours and hours every day. I'm cold and wet. I'm putting on the brakes from morning to night, saving people's silly lives, until I'm sick of the sight of them. If you was to drive a motor bus in London you'd want a little amusement now and then, too."
"So it's just for entertainment that you dodge about over the stopping-places and keep changing them?" I asked.
"Yes," he replied.