How I used to look down upon the bob-tailed cars at the cross-town streets.

Besides I was not merely one of the splendid Old Guard, I was _the_ bus--the one of which they used to tell the famous story.

Others may claim the distinction, but they are impostors, sir, rank impostors.

I was the bus.

What! You don't mean to say that you have never heard it ?" Humbly I acknowledged my ignorance, and listened to a tale that, I was assured, had once been told in every club corner and over every dinner table on the Avenue.
"It was nine o'clock of a blustery March night.