During the first seven blocks three men fresh from a distillery grew up in front of me and removed the scenery.
One of them had to get out in a hurry so he kicked me on the shins to show how sorry he was to leave me.
One of the other two must have been in the distillery a long time because pretty soon he neglected to use his memory and sat down in my lap.
When I remonstrated with him he replied that this is a free country and if he wished to sit down I had no business to stop him.
Then his friend pulled us apart and I resumed the use of my lap.
During the next twenty blocks I had one of the worst daylight nightmares I ever rode behind.
The party which had been studying the exhibits in the distillery got the idea in his head that my foot was the loud pedal on a piano and he started to play the overture from William Tell until I yelled "W'at'ell!"
That man was such a hard drinker that he gave me the gout just from standing on my feet.
Then I jumped off and swore off and swore at and walked home.
If the man who invented the idea of standing up between the seats in a sardine-car is alive he should have a monument.