He rings the bell incessantly for a milk-wagon to get out of the road.
The passengers expostulate. One of them is drunk, therefore
extra-expostulatory. Our conductor beholds the moment arrived when he
must "bounce" the passenger. The passenger is landed free on track, with
only the conductor's badge in his mind, which he reports to the office.
The next day the conductor tells a passenger to get his feet off that
seat, or he will put him off. In a dispute which follows, the conductor
loses a chance to get across a swinging-bridge, and a passenger who has
thus missed a train, gets angry and reports the conductor. The driver is
quietly asked about our friend, and our friend is thrown out of his
place like a shot out of a gun. He is too proud to drive again, and
takes a trip into the country for his health. This homely drama is
played in all the hotels where head-waiters are employed, in all the
departments of business where head-clerks are needed; in all the great
stores where floor-walkers "strut their brief hour,"--everywhere that
gives an opportunity for little Envy to peep, from