If you toss your cigarette butt onto a train platform or play rap music loudly in the quiet car, you’d better hope Anthony Daniels isn’t around. He is the sort of man—a vanishing species in our age of civic nonintervention—who will tell you to “pick your fag end up, please,” as he did to a slovenly young woman at London’s Euston Station recently, or ask that you turn the music off.