Again, Saturday, in summer, is the day which many people select for a trip to the country, to remain until Monday. On the day of which we write, therefore, the omnibuses were largely patronized; for everyone was in a great hurry to get to some railroad station, or to the point where they could take stages for some more or less distant destination.
So that there was a great crowd at the office by Porte Saint-Martin, and the clerk whose duty it was to distribute tickets did not know which way to turn; he had to be constantly on the alert, in order to avoid mistakes, especially as the travellers did not always confine themselves to asking for an exchange check or a number, but added irrelevant reflections, questions, and, in many cases, complaints.
"Ah! mon Dieu! number seventy-five! Are there seventy-four ahead of me?"
"Then there are twenty-five ahead of me?"
"Some of them haven't waited; they won't answer the call, and that puts the others ahead."
"Oh! I've got to wait; that isn't very pleasant."
"_Dame_! monsieur, we can't have 'buses ready to start every minute."
"Why not? It would be much pleasanter for the passengers; but nothing is ever done to please the passengers; I must complain to the management."
"Complain, if you choose, monsieur; that's none of our business."
"Why, yes, it is your business, too; it ought to be your business, as you're the one we deal with. What sort of a way is that to answer? Is that the way you treat passengers here? It seems to me that you ought to show more respect."
The man who is going to La Villette approaches the clerk once more.
"Tell me, have I got time to go to the pastry-cook's to buy a cake?"
"Why, monsieur, no one interferes with your going.--Here's the Grenelle 'bus--passengers for Grenelle--take your places!"
"I ask you if I have got time to go to get a cake before my 'bus comes?"
"Place des Victoires! All aboard for Place des Victoires!"
"Yes, monsieur; yes, yes, go to the pastry-cook's!"
And the clerk turns to his comrade, muttering:
"What a nuisance the fellow is with his cake!--Where should we be if everybody asked questions like that?"
A woman, of forty years or thereabout, who could not easily have found a compartment large enough to hold her, entered the office, leading two small boys, one of eight and one of four years, who were dressed like the little trained dogs that do tricks on the boulevards, and whose noses had evidently been overlooked because of their hurried departure from home.