(Saturday Evening Post)
Two half-tone reproductions of wash-drawings by a staff artist.
BY EDWARD HUNGERFORD
He stands there at the door of his car, dusky, grinning, immaculate—awaiting your pleasure. He steps forward as you near him and, with a quick, intuitive movement born of long experience and careful training, inquires:
"What space you got, guv'nor?"
"Lower five," you reply. "Are you full-up, George?"
"Jus' toler'bul, guv'nor."
He has your grips, is already slipping down the aisle toward section five. And, after he has stowed the big one under the facing bench and placed the smaller one by your side, he asks again: