It may be remarked that this principle of proportional deduction which is so dear to the hearts of the companies is not applied in the matter of the uniform, for which although it never becomes the wearer’s property a charge of threepence a day is demanded, even though the day may have been broken and the uniform worn only during an hour or two. A tale is told of a conductor to whom, the car having come to grief early in the shift, fourpence was handed as the fraction of wage to which he was entitled, out of which sum he was requested to hand back threepence in payment for his uniform. He had not presence of mind enough to reduce this charge in proportion to the reduction of his own wages, and to proffer a farthing as the nearest equivalent to one-fifteenth of threepence, but weakly yielded to the demand and went away with a penny. At threepence a day and 339 days in a year (_i.e._, deducting 26 Sundays) each man would pay £4, 4s. 3d. for his coat, cap, &c. It would be interesting to know what price is paid for the articles by the company. Employment in the omnibus trade, whether behind a horse or behind a motor, is thus full of discomforts and of weariness. Yet, such as it is, the men would be thankful for any certainty of retaining it. They are liable to discharge upon any complaint from an inspector (or possibly from an outside person) and no opportunity is allowed of exculpating themselves. Furthermore they are firmly convinced that a number of spies—“spots” is their own slang term—travel to and fro in the character of ordinary passengers and constantly present complaints, ill or well founded as the case may be, to the companies. “There’s plenty of people,” said one man, “who never pay their omnibus fares. They send in their tickets to the company and get back their money.” “Of course,” said another, “they must make plenty of complaints or the companies wouldn’t think it worth while to keep them on.” Whether this belief is right or wrong, its existence is, at least, highly significant of the light in which the men regard their employers, and is, I venture to say, a symptom of very unsatisfactory relations. The men are also persuaded that there exists among the Federation of masters a tacit compact in accordance with which a man who has quitted the service of any one of them will not, for a certain length of time, be admitted into that of any other. In their own language “the bar is up” against such a man. How far this opinion is well founded it is difficult to judge; but it is unquestionably the fact that instance after instance can be adduced of drivers, holding unendorsed licences, who, on leaving the employment of one company, have been refused week after week, by the others, and have been obliged at last to find some other calling. One finds himself happier and wealthier as a street sweeper. In at least one such case the responsible post eventually secured is a guarantee of good character and steadiness.