Yesterday I rode on a street car and saw a bit of by-play that fully illustrated this.

On these particular cars there is a seat for two alongside the front by the motorman.

On this car, chatting merrily with the handler of the lever, sat a black-eyed, pretty-faced Latin type of brunette.

That _he_ was happy was evidenced by his good-natured laugh and the huge smile that covered his face from ear to ear as he responded to her sallies.

Just then a young Italian came on the car, directly to the front, and seemed nettled to see the young lady talking so freely with the motorman.