Arthur Conan Doyle, the famous author of detective stories,
once came to Paris. He hired a cab at the railway station to go to the hotel.
“What hotel would you like to go to, Mr Conan Doyle” asked the cabman.
The writer was greatly surprised.
“How do you know my name?” he asked.
“Well, it’s simple,” the cabman said.
“The other day I read in the newspapers that you would probably visit Paris.
Then I noticed that your suit was made of good English tweed.
“Wonderful!” said Conan Doyle. “You are a born detective!”
“Thank you, Sir,” the cabman replied. “But another fact also helped me
to identify you.”
“What is it?” asked the writer.
“You see, your name is written on your luggage.”