When I had probed its beauties to the utmost depth I again turned round to see if there was a vacant seat among the smokers. To my joy I saw one. Quickly I rose and hastened to secure it, but at the same moment the bus turned a sharp corner and I sustained a violent blow on the back of my head which left me half-stunned.
The conductor, who had just appeared on deck to collect fares, helped me to my feet. Then he rounded on me.
"Why don't you read the notices?" he said by way of peroration. "Then it wouldn't've 'appened."
"The notices?" I repeated, handing him my fare. "I've done nothing else but read notices ever since I got on this wretched reading-room. I know where I may smoke and where I may not. I know that I must beware of pickpockets, and I know that I mustn't waggle my arms over the side-rails. Further, I have read Mr. Pinkerton's personal assurance that his Pills are the Best. If I'd had more time I daresay I should have worked my passage to the notice you refer to. I haven't reached it yet."
"Look 'ere," said the conductor, thrusting me into the vacant smoker's seat and pointing with what I at first took to be a saveloy, but which upon closer inspection proved to be his fore-finger, "what does that say?—
TO AVOID ACCIDENTS PASSENGERS
SHOULD REMAIN SEATED WHILE
THE BUS IS PASSING UNDER RAILWAY
BRIDGES.
There nar. Some of you blokes never look any farther than the end of your noses."
"Then if I had your nose," I retorted, "I should need a telescope to see even as far as that."
I was much disappointed that, just as I got to the caustic part, the exigencies of his profession demanded that he should punch six tickets in rapid succession. My repartee was consequently drowned amid a perfect carillon of bells. But meanwhile I had found another notice—
TO STOP THE BUS
STRIKE THE BELL
ONCE.