II—THE TARGET
The woman stepped on so many toes in making her way to the far end that the passengers were only willing to give partial forgiveness when, as the motor-omnibus started, she gave a violent jerk.
“First time I’ve ever been in one of these new-fangled contrivances.”
“It’ll be the last, if you ain’t careful,” said the conductor, punching a penny ticket.
“But I made up my mind to do it,” addressing the others. “Down in the country where I live, they’ve been throwing it up agenst me for some time past. And so I determined, next time I come up to see my sister, I’d take a trip by one of them, jest in order to see what happened, and—here I are.”
A youth next to her, with a girl companion, mentioned that it was a pity they so often exploded, and blew up in the air; the girl jerked with her elbow and begged him not to make her laugh in public.
“You think there’s any likelihood?” asked the country lady tremulously. “I don’t want to get mixed up in no fatal accident, and see my name in the London papers. Shan’t never hear the end of it if that happens. Do they make any warning before they go off pop?”
The passengers gave up all attempt to read, and offered her their complete attention. “So painful for friends,” said a woman opposite, winking at the rest. “Understand what I mean. Having to come and sort out the bits, and say, ‘That looks like Uncle James’s ear; if I could only find the other one, I should be able to start piecing him together.’ You see, they don’t allow compensation unless you can produce the complete individual.”
“That don’t seem exactly fair.”
“It isn’t fair,” agreed the humorous woman. “But there’s lots of things like that here in London. For instance, if the inspector came in now, and found you sitting up in the first-class part of the car, he’d want to charge you excess.”