The Sunday Cab
One morning, as Jerry had just put me into the shafts and was fastening the traces, a gentleman walked into the yard. “Your servant, sir,” said Jerry.
“Good morning, Mr. Barker,” said the gentleman. “I should be glad to make some arrangements with you for taking Mrs. Briggs regularly to church on Sunday mornings. We go to the New Church now, and that is rather further than she can walk.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Jerry, “but I have only taken out a six-days’ license, and therefore I could not take a fare on a Sunday; it would not be legal.”
“Oh!” said the other, “I did not know yours was a six-days’ cab; but of course it would be very easy to alter your license. I would see that you did not lose by it; the fact is, Mrs. Briggs very much prefers you to drive her.”
“I should be glad to oblige the lady, sir, but I had a seven-days’ license once, and the work was too hard for me, and too hard for my horses. Year in and year out, not a day’s rest, and never a Sunday with my wife and children; and never able to go to a place of worship, which I had always been used to do before I took to the driving box. So for the last five years I have only taken a six-days’ license, and I find it better all the way round.”
“Well, of course,” replied Mr. Briggs, “it is very proper that every person should have rest, and be able to go to church on Sundays, but I should have thought you would not have minded such a short distance for the horse, and only once a day; you would have all the afternoon and evening for yourself, and we are very good customers, you know.”