Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the creator of the world-famous detective Sherlock Holmes, was not above telling tales about himself in which he was the laughing-stock.
In one situation, he was waiting at a taxi stand outside the railway station in Paris. When a taxi pulled up, he placed his suitcase in the car and took a seat next to it.
'Where can I take you, Mr. Doyle?' asked the taxi driver.
Doyle was flabbergasted. He asked the driver whether he knew him by sight.
'No, sir, I have never seen you before.'
The puzzled Doyle asked him how he knew he was Conan Doyle.
'This morning's paper had a story about you being on vacation in Marseilles. This is the taxi-stand where people who return from Marseilles always come to. Your skin color tells me you have been on vacation. The ink-spot on your right index finger suggests to me that you're a writer. Your clothing is very English, and not French. And so, I deduced that you are Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.'
Doyle remarked, 'This is truly amazing. You are a real-life counterpart to my fictional creation, Sherlock Holmes.'
'There is one other thing,' the driver said.
'What is that?'
'Your name is on the front of your suitcase.'
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