Life — December 1, 1921 — page 8: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The New Sport James Healy RADUALLY my curiosity overcame my natural timid- ity and I determined to ask the question which had been burning within me for many, many years. “How do you do it?” I asked him. I was standing on the front platform of a Broadway surface car watching the Motorman as he guided the car on its way downtown. “Do what?” demanded the Motorman. “How do you know the exact moment to jump your car into motion or to jerk it to a standstill in or- der to catch the passen- gers off their balance and spill them onto the floor of the car or into someone’s lap? I have been watching you all the way from Forty- second Street, and you haven’t missed a single opportunity.” The Motorman blushed at this tribute to his skill. “They teach us the principles of the thing in the company’s schools,” he said, “but, like everything else, a man must have talent to develop to the point where it becomes an art. Now I don’t want to brag about myself, but I can calculate to the fraction of an inch the distance I can let a woman get towards a seat and still be able to start the car in time to jerk her off her feet and drop her on her back into the rear vesti- bule. “You may not think it, but the old folks are harder to get than the young ones. They watch you closer and you have to pretend to start be- fore they will let go their strap and attempt to sit down. Of course, I learned long ago how to handle them. I sim- ply start slow and when they take their hands off the strap, bing! I throw the car into full speed and drop grandpa on the floor as neatly as you please.” We had reached Thirty-fourth Street and, pretending to see a fare waiting to board the car, he jammed on the brakes and piled the standees in the car in a heap near the front platform. Then as they had nearly disentangled themselves and were regaining their feet, he started the car “*Twas the night before Christmas!” quickly and dropped them all to the floor again, this time near the rear platform. “That’s an old one,” he said as we gathered speed. “It’s one of the tricks I learned at the company’s school. I’ve originated some myself. There’s a stunt where the motor- man gets his car almost directly behind a truck which he pretends is holding him up. Then he jerks the standees off their feet and travels the next two blocks in short runs of ten or twelve feet, starting and stopping suddenly. The game is to see how far you can go before the passen- gers get back on their feet. I originated that.” We had stopped at Twenty-third Street. “The other day a one- legged man outguessed me, but I don't lose many of them.” He started quickly as a stout woman was set- tling into a seat and she landed in a man’s lap, half-way up the car. “Now watch this old woman getting on.” said as we stop Eighteenth Street bet you a good cigar that I can let her get both feet on the lower step and then drop her back into the gutter.” He won his bet Connubial Plea “Trrep of waiting, dearie?” she asked, emerging from_ her dressing-room aiter ex- hausting her feminine arts in the attempt to appear beautiful “Oh, no,” he replied, wearily, “it’s all in a wife-time.” At the Authors’ Club Brown: Smith’s new novel, “The Horrors of Wedlock,” has made him a fortune, hasn’t it? It’s the season’s success. Jones: Yes, he claims he’s made enough out of it to get married on. Puysician: You must avoid all that tends to excite. Use no alcoholic liquors and drink nothing but water. PatiENT: But, doctor, the thought of drinking nothing but water excites me. comicbooks.com