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Culled from Contemporaries.

3rd June 1909, Page 17
3rd June 1909
Page 17
Page 17, 3rd June 1909 — Culled from Contemporaries.
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Which of the following most accurately describes the problem?

A Selected Collection of Extracts from the British and Foreign Press.

"This is Folly."

It is rumoured that the Chief Commissioner of Police has been consulting the heads of the taximeter cab companies on the subject of a speed limit control device which causes a gong to be sounded every time a rate of travel beyond 20 miles an hour is attained. It is further stated that the heads of the taximeter cab companies expressed themselves as entertaining no objections to the scheme; therefore, it will duly come into force. This is folly. In the first place, if any class of vehicle needs such a device it is the electric tram. It must be within the experience of anybody who uses such vehicles at all frequently, and is accustomed to timing, that they often exceed 20 miles an hour, and the time which they take to pull up when travelling fast constitutes them by far the most dangerous class of vehicle on the highways in the vicinage of big cities.

. . . This speed gong notion, as applied to taxicabs, will immediately enccurage bad driving, because a man will take many a point at 10 miles an hour that he ought only to take at five.—The Obserrer (London).

Horseless Sunday—A Drastic and Relentless Revolution.

. . . The idea,. which has been taken up by the Highways Committee of the Council of the City of Westminster, is that the streets of London should be reserved for one whole day exclusively for motor traffic, and, if this is found to be impracticable, that the experiment should be tried in the City of Westmins

ter The speed of a fleet, in the well-known naval axiom, is that of its slowest ship. The same thing applies to a queue of traffic, where in narrow and congested streets the tortoise sets the pace to the hare. As to cleanliness, the motor is again supreme. In tho City of Westminster, for example, the streets have to be " laid " with grit or ballast every morning in order to give the horses foothold. The pedestrians pay for the safety of the horses by a compulsory submIssion to the trying nuisance of dust in dry weather, of mud in wet. There is one danger in connection with motor traffic from which horse-drawn traffic is immune, the danger of sideslip. The motorists argue, however, that if there were no mud there would be no sideslip, and mud, they say, would be conspicuous by its absence in streets no longer sanded. Finally, there is the real bait, the advantage to the ratepayer. At present the streets have to be swept at night and sanded in the morning. With exclusively motor-drawn traffic the roads would remain dustless. The horseless vehick seems destined to achieve ultimate and complete victory. But to many people not even an inducement. so alluring as a reduction of twopence in the pound on the rates will entirely reconcile them to the loss of the picturesque which is involved in the supersession of the horse. If there were any sense of tears in mortal things surely it would be touched by the prospect of a revolution so drastic and so relentless.—Thadin *Express.

The Loss of the Picturesque : When will the Lord Mayor Use a Motor Coach ?

The suggested experiment of excluding horse-drawn traffic from the London streets for one whole day will, if it take place, merely be a small anticipation of a certain future. Now that the motor vehicle has demonstrated its entire fitness for all the needs of a great city, the sooner it entirely supersedes the horse the better. We are a little sceptical as to the permanence of the motor-omnibus, at least on its present lines, but the motoreab is an unqualified success, and the motor-lorry and the motor-cart must sooner or later be universal. It is lamentable that material progress nearly always entails loss of the picturesque. The dapper hansom cabman and the horsey garrulous omnibus coachman were distinct national assets. Their wit was always ready, their power of repartee amazing. A two miles ride in a hansom hardened the nerves and accustomed the fare to face death with equanimity. But these thrilling delights will soon be mere memories. The King already rides in a motorcar. When the Lord Mayor follows his example and his wondrous rubicund coachman goes out into the ewigkeit the conquest of London will be complete.— Da ily Express.

Admiring the Lines of the Bonnet.

The hackney carriage, or, to use the modern synonym, the hansom cab, has for many years been an integral part of London life, and it is with mixed feelings that one views the impending alteration. What the ultimate future of the hackney carriage will he is a matter of conjecture perhaps, but it does seem as thong la the mechanical type will effectually oust its rival. It by no means follows that the motor cab will drive every hansom cab, or " four-wheeler " either, off the streets of London, as there will still be an appreciable number of people who prefer the horse-drawn vehicles for personal as well as sentimental reasons. Not everyone cares to entrust himself or herself to the speedy motor cab that dashes through thick traffic in a clever yet fearsome manner. Nor can one imagine oneself admiring the lines of the " bonnet " of the automobile, or even feeling any of that sympathy that naturally exists between man and a sentient animal. The motor cab has numerous good points, and though it does not appeal to our esthetic and artistic tastes as the noble horse does, it is impossible to deny its popularity. Its speed, ease of control, and power of working for unusually long periods all place it far in orlvance of the

horse-drawn vehicle Indeed, it would not be far from the truth to say that the cabmen themselves have in a great mossure been responsible for their present position. Having been too extortionate in the past, as well as unwilling to use the taximeter on their vehicles when a suggestion to thnt effect was made recently, they have been ignored by the public, educated as they are noW in the good points of the taximeter motor cab.—The Field. Suicidal Policy.

The attempt to get horse-drawn taxicabs has, it seems, failed for the present.

Why any of the cab-owners should oppose the adoption of taximeters it is difficult to understand, since it is tolerably certain that this offers the only means of salvation for the horse-drawn cab at the present time. Years ago, before the motorcab appeared on the scene, the case might have been different, though even then many thought that the owners were foolish and short-sighted in resisting the change. Nowadays such a policy is simply suicidal. The inotorcab owes its popularity harcrly less to its automatic fares than to its superior speed. It is amazing, therefore, that there should be proprietors so ignorant and pigheaded as still to hold out for the old unsatisfactory arrangement. Meanwhile, the hat is being sent round for cabby, and everyone will be glad that there has been such a handsome response on the part of the

public For though our friend the cabby may not be quite the angel of light which he is being painted in some quarters just now, he is certainly having a very hard time of it at present as a consequence of economic conditions beyond his or anyone else's control, and is deserving as such of all the help that can be given him.—Truth.

Ask Where the Mammoth and Dodo Are.

Where is the Jehu with jocund face We knew in the days of long ago, Seasoned son of a seasoned race, With a waggish tongue and a ceaseless flow Of the phrase that fits and the words that glow.

Ready to drive you near or far, Whether his horse was fast or slow ? Ask where the mammoth and dodo are.

Where is the driver garbed with grace, The hansom Gentleman known as Joe, A good high stepper who went the pace, On whom the girls would their smiles bestow.

Pride of the rank, of the box the beau, With his horseshoe pin and his big cigar, And his sporting necktie as white as snow?

Ask where the mammoth and dodo are.

Where is the growler of scanty space With the driver a study in age and woe And the shoful whose glass would leave its place And fall on your brand new silk chapeau Or strike your neck with a headsman'a blow, The joy of the drive through town to mar, And the horse that the asphalt laid so low?

Ask 'where the mammoth and dodo are.

The taxis stand in an endless row From opposite IIarrod's to Temple Bar,

But as to the cabs that we used to know !— Ask where the mammoth and dodo are. —The Referee.


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