The easel swung uncontrolled and knocked against the head of a little boy who was disembarking backward with fine caution.

"Hello, little man," said Hawker, "did it hurt ?" The child regarded him in silence and with sudden interest, as if Hawker had called his attention to a phenomenon.

The young painter was politely waiting until the little boy should conclude his examination, but a voice behind him cried, "Roger, go on down!" A nursemaid was conducting a little girl where she would probably be struck by the other end of the easel.

The boy resumed his cautious descent.
The stage drivers made such great noise as a collection that as individuals their identities were lost.

With a highly important air, as a man proud of being so busy, the baggageman of the train was thundering trunks at the other employees on the platform.