The fat man turned upon her savagely, his face very red, and exclaimed,
"If you don't stop talking to me, woman, I'll call the conductor and have you put off the car!"
"Shure, sorr," exclaimed the woman, "I'm afther gettin' off at Ninth Street, but, conductor or no conductor, I won't get out until you get off my butter that you've been sittin' in since you got on at Thirty-fourth Street!"
A gentleman recently returned from travelling in England brought back the following story, which he tells with such hearty laughter as to make one believe that to have seen the incident were better than to read about it:
The engineer of a train, or rather driver, as they call him in England, not shutting off steam soon enough, ran his train some distance past the station. He backed down again, but either through carelessness or defective machinery his engine ran some distance the other way. The station-master, exceedingly wroth at the first miscalculation, was simply spluttering with wrath at the second, and running down the track he yelled out:
"Hold on there! Stop where you are! We'll just shift the station up to you, being as you can't get up to it."
Freddie was sent down stairs by his uncle to bring up a pair of tan shoes. The youngster returned with two shoes, one of which was laced and the other buttoned.
"That isn't the right pair, Freddie," said his uncle. "I can't wear those. They are not mates. Where are the others?"