“None at all, sir.”
“Smart coachman! Have you let many horses down?”
“Never let one down, sir.”
“Get out of my yard,” shouted the proprietor, fiercely; “you’re no good to me. I want a man who’s had plenty of practice at getting horses up. Mine are always falling down.”
About this time, the latter part of the thirties, omnibus conductors began to fall into disrepute. The chief complaints against them, apart from their ordinary rudeness to passengers, were that when they were wanted to stop the omnibus they were always busy talking to the coachman along the roof, and that they banged the doors too violently whenever a person entered or got out. Others complained of their shouting unnecessarily, and of standing at the door gazing in at the passengers, thereby preventing fresh air from coming in, and polluting the atmosphere with their foul breath. Moreover, the “cads,” as the conductors were now called, were not at all careful to keep objectionable people out of their omnibuses, and one passenger, an old lady, had an exciting experience. She entered an omnibus, and the door was banged behind her in the usual nerve-shattering way. “Right away, Bill!” the conductor shouted, and before the poor old lady had recovered from the shock of the door slamming, the omnibus started, and she was pitched into the far dark corner, and fell against some men sitting there, who answered her timid apologies with an outburst of the vilest language imaginable. The old lady, horrified at their abuse, began to rebuke them, but stopped short, terrified, when she discovered that her fellow-passengers were three villainous-looking convicts, chained together and in charge of a warder. She screamed to the conductor to stop the omnibus, but the conductor was, as usual, talking to the driver, and did not heed her cries. Then she opened the door to get out, and, in her excitement, fell into the road. The conductor jumped down, picked her up, demanded the fare, and got it. “Right away, Bill!” he shouted, and the omnibus drove on, leaving the old lady, bruised and trembling, in the middle of the road.
While many people were complaining of the omnibus conductors’ behaviour, a large number of regular riders declared that it was but little worse than that of many passengers, and in January, 1836, the Times published the following guide to behaviour in omnibuses:—
Omnibus Law.
1. Keep your feet off the seats.
2. Do not get into a snug corner yourself, and then open the windows to admit a northwester upon the neck of your neighbour.
3. Have your money ready when you desire to alight. If your time is not valuable, that of others may be.