The Cabmans Story

Arthur Conan Doyle
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The Cabman's Story

The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cabman's Story, by Arthur Conan Doyle This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: The Cabman's Story The Mysteries of a London 'Growler'
Author: Arthur Conan Doyle
Release Date: December 26, 2005 [EBook #17398]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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THE CABMAN'S STORY
The Mysteries of a London "Growler"
By Arthur Conan Doyle
We had to take a "growler," for the day looked rather threatening and we agreed that it would be a very bad way of beginning our holiday by getting wet, especially when Fanny was only just coming round from the whooping cough. Holidays were rather scarce with us, and when we took one we generally arranged some little treat, and went in for enjoying ourselves. On this occasion we were starting off from Hammersmith to the Alexandra Palace in all the dignity of a four-wheeler. What with the wife and her sister, and Tommy and Fanny and Jack, the inside was pretty well filled up, so I had to look out for myself. I didn't adopt the plan of John Gilpin under similar circumstances, but I took my waterproof and climbed up beside the driver.
This driver was a knowing-looking old veteran, with a weathered face and white side whiskers. It has always seemed to me London cabman is about the shrewdest of the human race, but this specimen struck me as looking like the shrewdest of the cabmen. I tried to draw him out a bit as we jogged along, for I am fond of a chat; but he was a bit rusty until I oiled his tongue glass of gin when we got as far as the "Green Anchor." Then he rattled away quickly enough, and some of what he said is worth trying to put down in black and white.
"Wouldn't a hansom pay me better?" he said, in answer to a question on of mine. "Why, of course it would. But look at the position! A four-wheeler's a respectable conveyance, and the driver of it's a respectable man, but you can't say that of a rattling, splashing 'ansom. Any boy would do for that job. Now, to my mind money hain't to be compared to position, whatever a man s may be."
"Certainly not!" I answered.
"Besides, I've saved my little penny, and I'm got too old to change my ways. I've begun on a growler, and I'll end on one. If you'll believe me, sir, I've been on the streets for seven-and-forty year."
"That's a long time," I said.
"Well, it's long for our trade," he replied. "You see, there no other in the world that takes the steam out of a man so quickly--what with wet and cold and late hours, and maybe no hours at There's few that lasts at it as long as I have."
"You must have seen a deal of the world during that time," I remarked. "There are few men who can have greater opportunities of seeing life."
"The world!" he grunted, flicking up the horse with his whip. "I've seen enough of it to be well-nigh sick of it. As to life, if you' said death, you'd ha' been nearer the mark."
"Death!" I ejaculated.
"Yes, death," he said. "Why, bless your soul, sir, if I was to write down all I've seen since I've been in the trade, there's not a mate in London would believe me, unless maybe some o' the other cabbies. I tell ye I took a dead man for a fare once, and drove about with him nigh half the night. Oh, you needn't look shocked sir, for this wasn't the cab--no, nor the last one I had neither.
"How did it happen?" I asked, feeling glad, in spite of his assurance, that Matilda had not heard of the episode.
"Well, it's an old story now," said the driver, putting a small piece of very black tobacco into the corner of his mouth. "I daresay it's twenty odd years since it happened, but it's not the kind o' thing as slips out of a man's memory. It was very late one night, and I was working my hardest to pick up something good, for I'd made a poor day's work of it. The theatres had all come out, and though I kept up and down the Strand till nigh one o'clock, I got nothing but one eighteenpenny job. I was thinking of giving it up and going home, when it struck me that I might as well make a bit of a circuit, and see if I couldn't drop across something. Pretty
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