THE LIGHT WHITHCHAPKL CAKT. 187 



" Don't keep the whole of the King's 

 highway." 



The nnfortunate owner of the cabriolet stops 

 rather suddenly, and finds himself, like the 

 lions at the Zoological Gardens, " stirred up 

 with a long pole." 



A rival " bus" approaches. " Bank ! Bank ! 

 City ! Bank !" cries the conductor. The driver 

 makes a rush to pass both vehicles, locks his 

 wheel in that of the cabriolet, leaving it in 

 what the Americans term " a very unhand- 

 some fix." 



" I hate these French himportations and 

 liiuventions, the homnibusses !" exclaims the 

 gate-keeper, " they're a regular nuisance." 



Then might be seen approaching a pony- 

 phaeton, with a duedecimo postilion, and a 

 pair of long-tailed Arabians, containing two 

 of England's loveliest daughters — the turnpike- 

 man is lost in admiration. Quickly follows the 

 light Whitechapel cart with a fast trotter, 

 " surrounding objects rendered invisible by 

 extreme 'Zt'elocity," as the owner declares, who 

 by his bulldog and his costume shows he 

 belonged to the once royally-patronised prize- 

 ring. But see! a "drag" approaches; it is 



