It was a friendly and sensible notice, for, to tell the truth, I was beginning to feel afraid of a bus that carried so much free literature. It could not hope to be a thoroughly reliable bus and a library at the same time. I therefore determined to forfeit several divisions of my ticket, and give my "season" one more chance. I got up and struck the bell once. As the driver didn't know it was just an ordinary passenger that struck it he pulled up immediately. I had got halfway down the staircase when somebody—it must have been that offensive conductor—- gave the game away, for the bus jerked badly and started off again at a rare pace. So did I. But as I flew through the air I could not help catching a fleeting glimpse of a final advisory notice—
PASSENGERS ARE CAUTIONED
AGAINST ALIGHTING FROM
THE BUS WHILE IN MOTION.
THE IRON CROSS EPIDEMIC.
Captain of a German cruiser, hurrying home after shelling health-resort, gives orders to lighten the ship for the sake of speed.
From The Evening Standard's racing news:
"That's Enough, 19st 2lb (Mr. R. Cavello)
J. Killalee O"
We agree with the horse.