to more than one foreign
court, is now a cab-driver, and not a particularly good one. Unfrocked
priests, unsuccessful school-teachers, small bankrupt tradesmen, swell
the ranks, the _personnel_ of which is mainly composed of servants out
of place or of provincials who have come to Paris to seek their fortune.
These last come mostly from Normandy, Auvergne and Savoy; and it has
been noticed that the Savoyards are the most sober and docile of all.
The Parisian cabman is always under the surveillance of the police: a
policeman stationed on every stand watches each cab as it drives off,
and takes its number to guard as far as possible against any overcharge
or peculation. In case of a collision and quarrel or an accident the
ubiquitous policeman is always at hand to take the numbers of the
vehicles whose drivers may be concerned in the affair. Complaints made
by passengers are always attended to at once, and immediate redress is
pretty sure to follow. The cabman is generally gruff and surly, and,
though seldom seen drunk, in the majority of cases is addicted to
drink--a vice which the exposed nature of his calling palliates if it
does not wholly excuse. Some cabmen are devoted to newspaper reading,
and may be seen engaged perusing the _Rappel_ or the _Evenement_ while
awaiting the appearance of a fare or stationed before the door of a shop
or a picture-gallery. Others prefer to nap away their leisure moments,
and may be seen, half sitting, half lying on their boxes, and sound
asleep. It is rather a curious process to pass slowly along the line of
a Parisian cab-stand and observe the faces of the men. Every variety and
type of countenance--from the Parisian "Jakey" with villainous eyes,
sharp features and black soaplocks, to the jolly old patriarch, gray and
stout, and somewhat stiff in the joints, who has been a cab-driver for
over forty years perhaps--presents itself to your view. The best way to
engage a cab is by observing the face of the driver, not the condition
of the vehicle or that of the horse. The Parisian cabmen wear no
uniform, the high glazed hat being the only article of attire which is
universally adopted. Even the red waistcoat, once a distinctive mark of
their calling, is gradually falling into disuse, and every variety of
coat and overcoat may be seen, liveries past private service being very
generally adopted. Any overcharge may be reclaimed by the passenger by
the simple process of making a complaint befo