Presently I saw what looked like a kindly old gentleman, and I asked
him the way to Piccadilly.
"You'd better take the Tube," says he. "There's a station just over
there."
"Tube!" says I, doubtful like. "What's that?"
"An underground railway," says he, hurrying off. "You'll get to
Piccadilly Circus in a few minutes."
He was an awfu' liar, that mon! Why, it was ten minutes before I got
ma ticket! There were penny-in-the-slot machines besides the little
windows; but I don't trust them. There seemed to be about half-a-dozen
railways running into the place, and there were maps with all the
colours o' the rainbow to show you how to get to places; but as I
didn't know where I was, or whether I was on a green or a brown line,
they didn't help me much. I looked at the pictures and I looked at
the pert lassies in uniform clippin' tickets an' all. I didn't like
bothering them with questions, but at last I got to a window and asked
for Piccadilly.
"Penny," says the girl.
"Aye," says I, and I put down ma rifle, not meaning to hurt the foot of
the fussy mon behind me. "Is there any reduction for a return?" says I,
having been brought up never to waste the bawbees.
"No," she snapped. "Penny's the fare. Hurry up, please!"
"Yes, do," growled out the mon behind, hopping about on one foot and I
saw it was true about a crowd quickly gathering in London--for just in
the little time I'd been talking there were dozens of people waiting in
a line.
"I'll have to get at ma purse," says I, starting to search ma pockets.
"Losh! I believe I have it in ma pack! Will ye give us a hand with
these straps, laddie?"
"Oh, I'll pay your fare," says the man behind me; and no doubt he
meant it kindly, though his way was rough. Well, I puts ma ticket in
ma pocket and walks a little way. Then one of the wee lassies with
clippers stops me and wants ma ticket.
"Hold ma rifle, lassie," says I, "so as I can get it."
Seeing how unsociable everyone else seemed, I spoke kindly to the
lassie and told her I hoped she liked the job and her mither approved
and all. But maybe, knowing Londoners, she didna trust any mon; anyway,
the C.O. with a bad attack of liver couldn't have told me off much
sharper; and there was a crowd behind charging at me just like a game
of football!
Mon, I'm not surprised that these Londoners make good soldiers! A man
that could take that Tube every day of his life would think the first
line of trenches restful! Down a sort of underground tunnel I walked;
then suddenly I came to the funniest staircase I'd ever seen. I should
have stopped to stare at the rumbling, snarling thing, but people from
behind pushed me, and all of a sudden there was somethin' wrong with ma
feet, and I found myself carried forwards. While I was looking about me
steps formed before my eyes, and I gave a yell and clutched out to save
myself.
Now mind ye, mon, I'm a respectable young chap; ma feyther was elder at
the kirk and ma mither's always warned me to treat lassies with proper
respect.
I didna know it was a lassie's waist I clutched hold of when I went
down with a crash, ma rifle clattering and those awfu' stairs sliding
downwards all the time. When I pulled myself together I saw that I'd
dragged down with me a very pretty lassie, and she was sitting on ma
knee! She was wearing one of those terrible short skirts, and there
before my eyes was about a yard of silk stockings; but the lassie
jumped to her feet just as I was going to shut ma eyes.
She was quite nice aboot it, mind ye--the only nice Londoner I'd
met. She was flushed-up like, and confused, as anybody would be on
that awfu' livin' staircase, but she helped me to get to ma feet and
collect ma kit. It wasn't her fault, moreover, that I fell down again
in getting off that movin' contraption. I thought I was going to be
carried doon the crack where it disappeared, and what with marking time
and trying to step off with both feet at once I came down again with
another crash. I blocked the passage-way for a minute or two, and the
poor Londoners, with never a second to spare, were clambering all over
me. Do they get paid by the minute?
When I'd picked maself up and seen that nothing was missing, the dainty
little lassie had disappeared. I was sorry, for, although I've been
taught to be cautious of women, she was certainly verra nice, and no
weight at all on ma knee.