The Sun.
London, England, 1864-10-03 00:00:00

In the Omnibus—A Sketch,

The following charming little sketch (signed
" Sadie") is taken by us from The Queen of last
Saturday :
A mighty woman with a bundle, a cross woman
with a baby, an uncomfortable woman with a dog,
an old gentleman with an ear-trumpet, a beaming
young lady with an expansive crinoline, and the
usual complement of nothing particular people, in-
cluding mineself, John Hayes, gentlemen at large.
I would not have been inside if I could have helped
it; nor in an omnibus at all if I could have helped
it; and, judging from the surrounding faces, we
were all in the same plight. We were all hot, and
we all hated one another. When a fellow-creature
is visibly radiating the caloric one already has in
excess, hatred for him, or even her, follows in logi-
cal sequence, and we were waiting, absolutely wait-
ing, for more passengers.
"Are you going on, conductor?" said a gentle-
man near the door.

" Gent's of inquirin' turn o' mind," was the re■
ply, addressed to the lamppost. The meek man
was quenched, but the mighty woman, pointing
into the omnibus, said—" Look there, conductor,"
and he peered in. Her tone was so solemnly ex-
pressive that we were all conscience-stricken.
The uncomfortable woman covered- her dog to the
verge of suffocation, the old gentleman put up his
ear-trumpet, as I have noticed deaf people generally
do if there is anything to ba seen; I, being con.
scions of an odour of hall-burnt cigar about my
waistcoat pocket, tried to look Eau-de-Cologne.
The mighty woman repeated "Look there and
the conductor's eyes, as in a mesmeric sleep, fol-
lowed her finger up to the end and the roof of
the omnibus. Then be read aloud—" In case of
incivility." There ho stopped, and grunted "Ugh!"
But that conductor was conquered; Low delighted
we all were, and with what toadyism we looked
at the mighty woman, who tried to seem un-
conscious, and at last failed ignominiously by
breaking into a hearty laugh, and exclaiming,
" That did him, I thick ; but it was almost a
shame, poor fellow." We ceased to honour, and
began to love our champion after this.
" Please help me in, I'm blind." It was the tiniest,
sweetest voice ; we all turned to see a little girl lay
her hand confidently on the conductor's arm. 1
took her from him as fearfully as it she had been in
very truth what she looked like—my parian Clytis
—the same sweet face, with the delicate features
aui drooping white eyelids ; but the sadness of her
pallor was relieved by the vivid dark gold of her
hair, which fell in dark thick rolls into her neck.

" Isn't there a dog here ?" she said presently.

" Yes, darling," and the dog's owner, us she
handed it to the child, looked uncomfortable no
longer, the blind face turned to her's seemed to charm
away its nervousness.

" What a dear fellow," said Clytie, and the rough
terrier grow popular.
"Do they let you go fir alone " said the cross
woman.

" Oh, yes." The little one gave a low glad laugh
of triumph. " I've been to the blind school ; I can
do everything for myself now."

" Wculd you mind saying that again, my dear
I'm very deaf," said the old gentleman. She re-
peated her sentence, adding, with an old womanly
pity, ‘`lt mu3t be so sad to be deaf."

I said involuntarily, " You don't look as though
you were ever sad."
" I ? Oh no, I never am now Emy is well."
" Who is Emy ?"
"Why, little sister ; oh I such a little darling,
but she was ill for a long time, so long,"
Cly tie's voice faltered, as though she were living
over again a great sorrow.
" But she is well now ?" I said.
" Oh yes, quite strong, and it is so nice."
"Hive you many sisters and brothork ?" asked
the young lady."

an great fat fell )w, and he laughs, you can'ty
b No,
ho Emy, and one brother, baby- Tom ;
think how he laughs." If it was anything like
the musical rill his sister sent rippling through the
sir, I should like to have heard that baby.
" What does he laugh at ?" said the cross woman,
" Oh, everything; at Emy and me, when we play
, when there's dump-
the floor, and laughs
Plinugnsc,ha aunddstromadeyti;maellsdhaetldayinslaoenr
at himself, and we laugh too, it's so funny." The
little one's mirth was infectious, we all joined in,
with various modulations of the roar of the deaf
gentleman, who could'nt stop himself, and set us off
again, little Clytie clapping her soft gloved hands,
till she made the dog bark, and the conductor looked
in to say, " Well, if ever I see such a row.''
"Easton-road, please," said Clytie, turning into
a business woman all at once.

The unwelcome place seemed to come directly;
as I turned from helping the child out, I saw the
cross woman's face breaking up into tears.
"It's queer," she said, " but I feel like to cry to
see Ler so merry."

I was unpleasantly consciou3 of what my dear
mother used to call the apple in my throat, so I was
grateful to the deaf gentleman for saying " Eh I"
and saving the eff)rt of replying. We all fell into
quietness, but it was curious to notice how forbear•
ing we grew to one another ; the child's great loss,
worn like a flower*crown on the heal of some pic-
tured—saint, made our petty discomforts all melt
away. The young lady began to play with the
baby, the old gentleman with the dog, and I, who
object to all gratuities en the principk3 of never
having any money to spare, was absolutely pleased,
when the mighty woman handed back her change
to her vanquished foe, saying
" Never_ mind the penny, conductor."
Even the cross wom to grew quite interesting over
a reminiscence of a youth she had known when she
was a girl, who had recovered his sight after being
blind for a year.

I think if, instead of being a plucked civil service
candidate, I could bo a woman with a mission, I
would chose that of my unconscious little Clytie.

ACCIDENT TO A CATTLE DFALEIL—A very serious
accident occurred on Friday afternoon last to Mr.
Benjamin Greaves, of Worksop, an extensive cattle dealer,
who, having been at Lincoln market, called at Gainsboro'
on his way home, having some cattle grazing at that place.
He was turning away from inspecting a cow, when it
rushed upon him, knocked him down, and gored him with
its horns most fearfully. On his attempting to rise the
beast again attacked him, breaking his collar-bone, and
bruising him all over hie body. Assistance was rendered
as soon as possible by two boatmen who were on the river
bank, and owing to their aid Mr Greaves' life was saved.
He was afterwards conveyed to his home at Worksop, and
the assistance of Mr H. N. Hett, surgeon, called in, under
whose treatment hopes are entertained of his recovery.—
Stamford Mercury.