n. The impression on the cad's mind
evidently is, that it is amply sufficient for the accommodation of any
number of persons that can be enticed into it. 'Any room?' cries a hot
pedestrian. 'Plenty o' room, sir,' replies the conductor, gradually
opening the door, and not disclosing the real state of the case, until
the wretched man is on the steps. 'Where?' inquires the entrapped
individual, with an attempt to back out again. 'Either side, sir,'
rejoins the cad, shoving him in, and slamming the door. 'All right,
Bill.' Retreat is impossible; the new-comer rolls about, till he falls
down somewhere, and there he stops.

As we get into the city a little before ten, four or five of our party
are regular passengers. We always take them up at the same places, and
they generally occupy the same seats; they are always dressed in the same
manner, and invariably discuss the same topics--the increasing rapidity
of cabs, and the disregard of moral obligations evinced by omnibus men.
There is a little testy old man, with a powdered head, who always sits on
the right-hand side of the door as you enter, with his hands folded on
the top of his umbrella. He is extremely impatient, and sits there for
the purpose of keeping a sharp eye on the cad, with whom he generally
holds a running dialogue. He is very officious in helping people in and
out, and always volunteers to give the cad a poke with his umbrella, when
any one wants to alight. He usually recommends ladies to have sixpence
ready, to prevent delay; and if anybody puts a window down, that he can
reach, he immediately puts it up again.

'Now, what are you stopping for?' says the little man every morning, the
moment there is the slightest indication of 'pulling up' at the corner of
Regent-street, when some such dialogue as the following takes place
between him and the cad:

'What are you stopping for?'

Here the cad whistles, and affects not to hear the question.

'I say [a poke], what are you stopping for?'

'For passengers, sir. Ba--nk.--Ty.'

'I know you're stopping for passengers; but you've no business to do so.
_Why_ are you stopping?'

'Vy, sir, that's a difficult question. I think it is because we perfer
stopping here to going on.'

'Now mind,' exclaims the little old man, with great vehemence, 'I'll pull
you up to-morrow; I've often threatened to do it; now I will.'

'Thankee, sir,' replies the cad, touching his hat with a mock expression
of gratitu