That military-looking gentleman, with his arm in a sling, and his head
covered with bandages, has, I suppose, just returned from fighting the
Dacoits in Upper Burmah?
I certainly _am_ surprised when you inform me that he has only tried
to cross a London street in a fog.
Do you really mean to say that the vehicle that just thundered past at
twenty miles an hour, in the mist, was _not_ a fire-engine, but only a
covered Van?
Yes, I believe it _is_ a fact that special beds in all the Hospitals
are now reserved for Van-victims.
Of course it is difficult for a man in the Van to look to the Rear;
still he need not swoop down on pedestrians quite so much like a
highwayman, saying, "Your collar-bone or your life!"
If things go on as they are now doing, every covered Van will have to
carry its own Surgeon and ambulance about with it.
What is that crowd for, and why is somebody shouting angrily? Oh, I
suppose the old gentleman, who has been run over by the Coal-waggon
and is lying bleeding on the asphalte, is remonstrating with the
driver?
What? Can it really be the case that the driver is abusing the old
gentleman for his stupidity in getting in his way?
I _have_ heard that the Insurance Companies now insert in their
policies a condition forbidding the crossing of any street in London,
except under police escort.
And, finally, as nearly six thousand persons were run down in the
streets of the Capital last year, is it not almost time that something
were done to check the Van Mazeppa-Juggernaut in his wild career?
* * * * *
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