I started
a fuss when on board; anything to get thrown off. I
even auctioned off Louise. I commenced the thing by
saying:"Before the boat sails I am authorized to
sell this orphan child. What am I offered?" The
bids opened up well and I sold Louise to a bright
looking little fellow for seventy-five cents. I
demanded the money before I turned over the baby. The
boy's father told his son that I was only fooling.
That was the beginning of a scrap. But they wouldn't
put me off the boat. Instead they told me if I tried
to auction off any more babies, they would put me in
irons.
Arriving at
Paddington Station, London, I left that cage in the
cars where they lock you up three hours from the time
you land. Walter C. Kelly was there to meet the
family (I never saw a handsomer looking fellow and a
more welcome one than Walter). He said: "I say,
old chap, get your folks in this taxi and you follow
on behind with your luggage. Drive to 69 Blank
Street." "All right," said I.
I
had four fights before I could make eleven men
understand I only needed one cab. Before the luggage
was loaded, there were eight men handling it. So I
had eight to tip. I had to hire another man to do the
tipping. We got a hatful of pennies and shillings,
paying off in full.
"Take me to Blank Street," I said to the
cabbie. "Right, Guv'nor,"said the cabbie.
Away we started. It was raining and the fog was so
thick I thought we were going through a tunnel.
"How far is it?" I asked my hired
paymaster, who was along. "Four miles," he
said. I noticed about fifteen men following, keeping
right up with the cab and peering in the windows
every now and then. I asked the cashier what those
fellows were following us for. "We paid them
once," I said. "Oh," said he;
"they are cab runners." "You don't
mean to say they will follow us all the way?"
said I. "Absolutely," said the paying
teller.
Pretty
soon the clerk said: "Hey, Cabbie, boblomit, you
are going in the wrong direction--69 Blank Street and
hurry up." "Ol right, Guv'nor," said
the driver as he turned around, spilling three of my
trunks overboard. The old table went awhirling
through the fog and mud. Talk about going through cab
windows. We had to fight those cab runners and
yelling police to get the trunks back. My head clerk
could fight some, and between us we did it.
