When the conductor came around for her ticket, she fumbled for her purse, then grew pale and gasped:
"I've been robbed. There is nothing in my pocket but a piece of orange peel, some cloves, and a bottle of whiskey."
Then she began to throw the articles on the floor.
"Madam," said the deep bass voice of the clerical-looking chap, "I'll thank you to take your hands out of my pocket and leave its contents alone."
Then I began to look around for some other diversion, and got it.
In front of me sat an old gentleman with a man-servant in attendance.
He was greatly bothered by a fly, which used to go in one ear and out the other.
You know how they do, sometimes.