"A director are yo? awm fain to see yo, aw've often wanted to ax one o' ye gentry ha it is at th' trains is soa unpunctual on this line?" Th' owd chap jumped up an run to th' winder, an let it daan, an started tryin to find th' cord to stop th' train, but bi gooid luck he'd getten to th' wrang side o'th carriage, an while he wor botherin to find th' rope, Sydney opened th' t'other winder an stuck one o'th' slips wi "Smookin" on it, on th' aghtside oth' pane, an then he sed: "Aw insist on yo closin that winder, sir, th' draught annoys me, as aw've getten a bad cowd." Haivver th' owd chap wodn't shut it, he kept his heead aght an cought, an it worn't till he catched seet o' Sydney sharpenin a gurt jack-knife on his booit, at he wor flayed into cloisin it. Nah it soa happened at only that varry afternooin, th' owd feller had been readin ith' paper, abaat a man havin escaped throo a mad haase somwhear or other, an it struck him at Sydney must be th' varry chap, soa he wor in sich a funk 'at he didn't know whativver to do, but he thowt th' best thing wod be to keep as still as he could, an not vex Sydney, soa he sat daan as quiet as owt an sed nowt. "Are yo fond o' mewsic?" Sydney axt. "Varry," sed th' owd chap. Soa Sydney started wavin his jack knife abaat, an bellowin a song aght o' tune, abaat Buffalo Bill, an huntin buffalos in th' wilds o' Kensington, an he stuck a verse in abaat scalpin Railway directors. In th' meeantime th' train wor gooin along at a gooid rattle, for they wor lat, an th' driver wor makkin up time, soa th' carriage started o' swingin a bit. Th' owd feller thowt he mud say summat to try an mak Sydney forget abaat scalpin directors, soa he sed: "Dooant yo think this trains gooin quickly, sir?" "Aw wish it wod goa twenty times faster, aw wish it wod goa a thaasand times faster," sed Sydney, wavin his arms abaat, "aw wish it wod goa bang into another train an smash this carriage all inter smithereens." "Why, if it did yo'd be killed!" "Awd dee gladly ony day," Sydney answered, "if aw could only know at a Director wor killed too." An soa they went on, Sydney dooin all kind o' mad things, he even insisted on th' Director smookin three whiffs ov a cigar; but at last, like ivverything i' this world, th' journey coom to an end, an they glided into th' station at Brummagem. As sooin as ivver th' train stopt, th' Director jumpt aght, an called for a porter, "Get that gentleman's name," he sed, "he's been smookin in this carriage." Sydney wor sittin quite calmly, wi' hawf a cigar in his maath, an th' porter sed,-- "Have yo been smookin, sir?" "Ov coorse aw have, cannot yo see mi cigar, this is a smookin carriage, luk thear"--an he pointed to th' label on th' winder.