gentlemen, who obviously regard their own lives as precious, should continue to entrust their persons to vehicles so precarious. On some lines, the men work early and late shifts in alternate weeks; on others, they change twice a week. A driver, working on these terms, explained to me how, on a certain evening in the week, he came off duty about midnight, after which time he had to get home, to get himself clean—no rapid process, as many an amateur motorist well knows—and to get his supper. Soon after six, next morning, he was due at the garage to take on his early shift, and was obliged, therefore, to leave home by about half past five. His next leisure for a meal not arriving until seven hours later, it behoves him to get his breakfast before he sets out. How many hours’ rest fall to his share on such occasions, and how fit he is, in the morning, to assume the responsibility of a motor omnibus and its complement of passengers, readers may judge for themselves. Among other evils arising from this system we may note the way in which every man’s hand is turned against his comrade. It becomes the interest of the first shift to snatch time enough for their own journeys, to the loss of the second shift; while the second shift would be more than human if they did not resent the time thus lost. The employing company alone profits by setting up an impossible, or almost impossible, task as the measure of the day’s payment. By pretending that three journeys instead of two form the task of one shift of workers, the payment for each journey can be fixed at one-third instead of at one-half of what may be reckoned as the wage of a man’s working day.