Election day came at last. The streets were full, and cabs with the candidates’ colours on them raced through the crowd as if nobody’s life mattered, with half-drunk voters cheering out of the windows. It was the first election I had ever seen, and I do not want to see another.
At noon Jerry put on my nosebag and took out one of Polly’s meat pies. We had not eaten many mouthfuls when a poor young woman came along the street, carrying a heavy child. She looked quite lost. She asked Jerry the way to St Thomas’ Hospital. She had come from the country that morning, she said, and the doctor had told her that her little boy might get well there.
“He is four years old and can’t walk any more than a baby can,” she said. “Please, sir, how far is it?”
“Why, it is three miles, and that child is heavy,” said Jerry. “Get into the cab, and I’ll drive you there.”
“No, sir, thank you. I have only just enough money to get home.”
“Look here,” said Jerry. “I have a wife and children at home, and I know how a father feels. I’ll take you there for nothing.”
“Bless you!” said the woman, and burst into tears.
As Jerry went to open the door, two men with party colours in their hats ran up, pushed past the woman and jumped into the cab.
“This cab is already taken, gentlemen,” said Jerry, looking as stern as a policeman. “That lady has it.”
“Lady!” said one of them. “Oh, she can wait. Our business is very important.”
A funny smile came over Jerry’s face as he shut the door on them. “All right, gentlemen. Stay in as long as you like.” Then he turned his back on them and walked over to the young woman. “They’ll soon be gone,” he said, laughing.
And they were. When they understood Jerry’s trick, they got out and called him all sorts of bad names. Then we drove the woman to the hospital.
“Thank you a thousand times,” she said. “I could never have got here alone.”
Just as we were leaving, a lady came down the hospital steps and put back her veil. “Barker! Jeremiah Barker, is it you? I am very glad to find you here. Please take me to Paddington Station.”
It was Mrs Fowler, and Polly had once worked for her. At the station she asked a lot of questions about Polly and the children.
“And how does cab work suit you in winter?” she asked. “I know Polly was worried about your cough last year.”
“It is all hours and all weathers, ma’am, and that is hard on a man. But I would feel lost without horses.”
“Well, Barker,” she said, “it would be a great pity to risk your health in this work. If you ever give up cab work, let me know.” Then she put five shillings for each of the children into his hand, and we went home.