to the engine," which is a desirable object
throughout our three kingdoms,—for every
place is a corner place, having light and air,
and you may sit which way you please.

Attached to each carriage, and going the
whole length of the train, is a broad wooden
plank, along which the guards are constantly
walking, so that the slightest thing amiss
could scarcely occur without their perceiving it
immediately. Just before the arrival of the
train at any station, one of these functionaries
—for there are several—quietly opens the door
and, instead of calling out "I say, you sir!"
or "Come, marm, your ticket, I carn't be a
waitin' here all day," as we have heard in
England, walks without any hurry or bustle
down the division from one end to the other,
repeating, in a clear and ordinary tone of voice
the name of the station which is being
approached, and requiring the tickets of such
passangers as are going to alight there. With
such an arrangement—giving ample time for
the gathering together of coats, canes,
umbrellas, reticules, and so forth—even Martha
Struggles herself might have got through a
journey unscathed and "unflustered."

The admirable arrangement displayed in
America, as well as in Germany, for receiving
tickets without that delay which has been
so much complained of in England, cannot be
sufficiently applauded. When however delay is
unavoidable, to receive the mails, or from, some
other cause, no sooner does the train stop, than
a waiter, or sometimes a pretty waitress—who
is more likely to find customers—trips up the
steps with a tray laden with iced water and
lemonade, glasses of light wine or maitrank, (a
kind of Burridge-cup,) biscuits, cakes, and other
edible nick-nacks, so that the passenger may
take some slight refection without getting down.

In the railway from Bonn to Cologne, on
the Rhine, they have pushed convenience yet
farther, having provided the first-class
carriages with tables, so that during the journey,
one pressed for time may write letters with
the greatest ease; pens and a portable inkstand
being all that is necessary for that purpose.
Paper may be had at the station.

It has been also suggested on several of the
continental railways, that such travellers as
chose to pay for the space, might have a
regular bed; a great convenience for ladies or
invalids, unable to bear the fatigue of a journey
of many hours by night.

These hints might be followed with very
great advantage to the shareholders in particular
and to the public in general, by the
directors of British lines.

IMPROVING A BULL.

THE highly respectable old lady who
addressed us on a former occasion, has obliged
us with another communication, on a most
important subject:—

"Sir,—You would have heard before, but
the cause was a mad bull, which being tossed
might at my age be verry ill-convenient. But
that's nothing to what I'm going to tell you.
Only to think of the power of horns! Bulls
tosses very high, I've heard, but did you ever
hear, Mr. Conductor, of a mad bull tossing a
widow and six children across the sea, half
over the side of the round world, from our
Borough to Australia? Well you may stare,
but it's a fact!

"The bull run right at me, full butt, and so
I grasped my umbrella with both hands and
ran to where the shops was—drat the boys,
how they did screech about one!—and it was
cold water, which I doesn't often drink, by
which means I came to in a pastry-cook's. The
name was Bezzle, I see it on a bag while she
was putting in gingerbread nuts for Mrs.
Jenks's baby, which I bought not to be under
obligation for stepping in.

"'Gracious mussy, Mrs. Bezzle,' says I,
'why wasn't I killed? What ever is the
reason of them bulls?'

"Says she, 'It's market day.'

"'Smithtield!' says I.

"Says Mrs. Bezzle, 'Mum, all the abuse
and outcry against Smithfield is very narrow-
minded.'

"Says I, 'How so?'

"Says she, 'It don't consider shop-keepers.
When a bull takes a line of street, it drives
the people into the shops on either side,
and they make purchases for fear of being
gored.'

"'Heighty teighty, mum,' I says, 'you are
alluding to my ginger-bread,'

"Says she, 'I scorn allusions. It's a rule.
Whether it's bulls or thunderstorms, or what
it is we look to, we respects whatever sends
us customers.'

"Says I, 'Mrs. Bezzle, you astonish me.
Where's your family trade?

"Says she, 'There are too many traders.
Where one of us earns meat, three of us only
earn potatoes.'

"'Emigrate,' says I.

"Says she, 'That's very well, but then,'
says she, 'in such a move it's hard to know
which way to put one's foot, and when a
step's made, if it's a wrong one, it's not easy
to retrace it.'

"'Spirited trading—' says I.

"'Ah!' says she, cutting me short rudely;
but I forgive her, owing to her feelings.
'Take Chandlery, within seven minutes of
this door, mum. One man sells soap under
cost price, and other things at profit, hoping
to bring people to his shop for soap, and then
get them to buy other articles. But his
neighbour sells cheap herrings in the same
way; another sacrifices pickles, and another
makes light of the candle business. What's
the result? Folks buy in the cheapest
market; go for soap to the man who sells
that at the ruin prices, go for herrings to his
neighbour, go down the other street for
pickles, and get candles over the way.'

"'Well,' says I, 'that's an Illustration of