After a time his sneer grew so that it turned its glare upon
all things. He became so sharp that he believed in nothing. To
him the police were always actuated by malignant impulses and the
rest of the world was composed, for the most part, of despicable
creatures who were all trying to take advantage of him and with
whom, in defense, he was obliged to quarrel on all possible
occasions. He himself occupied a down-trodden position that
had a private but distinct element of grandeur in its isolation.

The most complete cases of aggravated idiocy were, to his mind,
rampant upon the front platforms of all the street cars. At first
his tongue strove with these beings, but he eventually was superior.
He became immured like an African cow. In him grew a majestic contempt
for those strings of street cars that followed him like intent bugs.

He fell into the habit, when starting on a long journey, of
fixing his eye on a high and distant object, commanding his horses
to begin, and then going into a sort of a trance of observation.
Multitudes of drivers might howl in his rear, and passengers might
load him with opprobrium, he would not awaken until some blue
policeman turned red and began to frenziedly tear bridles and beat
the soft noses of the responsible horses.

When he paused to contemplate the attitude of the police
toward himself and his fellows, he believed that they were the only
men in the city who had no rights. When driving about, he felt
that he was held liable by the police for anything that might occur
in the streets, and was the common prey of all energetic officials.
In revenge, he resolved never to move out of the way of anything,