was an interesting thing, so I told it about that I had had my pocket
cut, but I did not see any international significance in the affair.

The achievement, however, I discovered was much relished by my hearers
in England. I, an American, had come over there and had my pocket cut.
He, the crook, an Englishman very probably, had been "cuter" than I; he
had "had" me, an American.

It is a curious thing, and a fact not generally known, I believe, that
all decayed taxicab drivers in London, those who are unfortunate, have
fallen from a high estate. Each and every one of them used to drive
the London to Oxford coach in the days of 'orses.

I met a number of these personages, fat, with remarkably red faces and
large honeycombed noses. Not at all like the alert, athletic lads, a
type of mechanical engineer, who have arisen as cabbies with the advent
of taxis. What do they know about 'orses?

It was such an old boy who drove me from the neighbourhood of Russell
Square, where I was stopping, to Chelsea, where I went into lodgings.
He frequently had the pleasure of driving Americans, he remarked.
"Thank you, sir," he said.

I required to have my shoes repaired, and I inquired of my landlord
where might be found a good cobbler. He told me that there was an
excellent one in Battersea. "In Battersea!" I said. "Is there none in
Chelsea? How am I to get my shoes clear over to Battersea?"

"Why," he replied, "we will send the cobbler a card and he'll send some
one over for the boots and----"