The conductor collared him as he was getting off, and jerked him back savagely.
"Carn't yer keep still a minute," he cried indignantly; "blessed if you don't want lookin' after like a bloomin' kid." "I vont to be put down at Sharing Cross," answered the Frenchman, humbly.
"You vont to be put down at Sharing Cross," repeated the other bitterly, as he led him back to his seat.

"I shall put yer down in the middle of the road if I 'ave much more of yer.

You stop there till I come and sling yer out.

I ain't likely to let yer go much past yer Sharing Cross, I shall be too jolly glad to get rid o' yer." The poor Frenchman subsided, and we jolted on.

At "The Angel" we, of course, stopped.