Some of the opposition proprietors, however, were men of sufficient enterprise to object to remaining mere imitators of Shillibeer, and tried their hardest to make their omnibuses more attractive than those of their great rival. One man made all his coachmen wear a wooden ring on each arm with strings attached to them which ran along each side of the roof of the omnibus and out at the back to the conductor. The passenger would then pull the cord or tell the conductor which side he wished to be put down, and if it were the near side the left string would be pulled; but if the passenger desired to get out on the off side the conductor would pull the right string, and the coachman would drive across the road and come to a standstill on what is now the wrong side of the road. It seems strange that such a proceeding should have been allowed in London, but the arrangement was very popular with passengers, who grumbled and wrote letters to the proprietors if the strings were absent or defective. Very soon after the introduction of such strings there were few omnibuses in London without them, and they remained in fashion for many years. Many omnibuses had clocks fixed in them for the convenience of passengers, and to ensure conductor and coachman keeping their time. Bells did not come into use until many years later. When a conductor wanted his coachman to stop he usually shouted to him. When he wished him to go on he shouted again or banged the door. Mr. Cloud, who ran omnibuses from the White Horse, Haymarket, to Chelsea and Hammersmith--fares one shilling and half a crown--eclipsed Shillibeer in one respect. Shillibeer supplied his patrons with newspapers and magazines; Cloud provided his with books by well-known authors. A little bookcase, well filled, was fixed in each of his omnibuses at the end near the horses. Books were expensive in those days, and many people rode to Hammersmith and back for the sole purpose of reading a particular one which they knew to be in the omnibus library. But this admirable innovation was abused shamefully by the passengers, who appeared to consider it no sin to purloin the volumes. Disgusted at the dishonesty of his patrons, Mr. Cloud announced publicly that, in consequence of the thefts, his libraries would be discontinued. The bookcases were removed, and in place of each a seat was fixed, thereby enabling the omnibus to accommodate thirteen inside passengers instead of twelve. Other omnibus proprietors decided that their vehicles should also carry thirteen passengers, but provided no additional accommodation. A conductor would tell a person that there was room inside, but when the passenger entered he would find the six seats on either side occupied. If he happened to be a stout party, the burning question was on which side ought he to sit. The matter was generally settled by the new-comer flopping down on some one’s lap. Then a quarrel would ensue. As late as 1882 an omnibus with a seat in