Slow, Slower

Bus drivers in "gay Paree" said 450 francs was not enough and that was all there was to it. Bus owners said "450 francs is your pay. Take it or leave it."

The bus drivers took it. Communists urged them to leave it; but there seemed small prospect of any strike pay, so a novel form of strike was adopted.

One fine morning, when everybody was going unwillingly to work, the buses were driven at a snail's pace. This suited the enormous crowds until they were in danger of arriving late at their offices. "Allez-vous-en," they yelled to the drivers. "Quo voulez-vous aivec un tel bataclan?" returned the drivers. The crowd seethed with merriment, decided it would be quicker to walk.

The streets rapidly became cluttered with slow moving and long stopping buses. At each stop the conductors were super-polite. Not for a second would any bus start until Madame, Monsieur, Mademoiselle were seated. And, in order that bells should not jar passengers' nerves, they would walk leisurely to the driver and inform him that everybody was seated and that he could start.

As this sort of thing went on only in the morning, noon hours and at closing time, the good humor of the French was sadly strained. But it was not until a genius knew he had di.v sous somewhere and could not find it for five minutes that the tables were turned on the strikers. Thereafter, bus riders had no end of a time. Some would offer a thousand-franc note; others would demand a recount of their change ; nearly all had the utmost difficulty in finding any money on their persons and some clumsy persons got into the bad habit of dropping their coins on the floor, whereupon everybody would try to find them. Tired and sweaty conductors finally gave up trying to collect fares, held consultations with fre drivers, with the result that the buses began to go faster and passengers paid faster.