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diff --git a/4781-h/4781-h.htm b/4781-h/4781-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8c636bc --- /dev/null +++ b/4781-h/4781-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7518 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta content="pg2html (binary v0.17)" name="linkgenerator" /> + <title> + The Hohenzollerns in America, by Stephen Leacock + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; text-align: justify; font-size: 80%; font-style: italic;} + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + .xx-small {font-size: 60%;} + .x-small {font-size: 75%;} + .small {font-size: 85%;} + .large {font-size: 115%;} + .x-large {font-size: 130%;} + .indent5 { margin-left: 5%;} + .indent10 { margin-left: 10%;} + .indent15 { margin-left: 15%;} + .indent20 { margin-left: 20%;} + .indent25 { margin-left: 25%;} + .indent30 { margin-left: 30%;} + .indent35 { margin-left: 35%;} + .indent40 { margin-left: 40%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; right: 1%; font-size: 0.6em; + font-variant: normal; font-style: normal; + text-align: right; background-color: #FFFACD; + border: 1px solid; padding: 0.3em;text-indent: 0em;} + .side { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 15%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + .head { float: left; font-size: 90%; width: 98%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0} + span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 0.8 } + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +Project Gutenberg's The Hohenzollerns in America, by Stephen Leacock +#8 in our series by Stephen Leacock + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Hohenzollerns in America + With the Bolsheviks in Berlin and other impossibilities + +Author: Stephen Leacock + +Release Date: December, 2003 [Etext #4781] +[This file was last updated on May 20, 2004] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT THE HOHENZOLLERNS IN AMERICA *** + + + + +This etext was produced by Gardner Buchanan + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + + + +</pre> + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + THE HOHENZOLLERNS IN AMERICA + </h1> + <h3> + With The Bolsheviks In Berlin And Other Impossibilities + </h3> + <h2> + By Stephen Leacock + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>CONTENTS</b> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> I.—<b>THE HOHENZOLLERNS IN AMERICA</b> + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PREF"> PREFACE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I — On Board the S.S. America. + Wednesday </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II — City New York. 2nd Avenue </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> II.—WITH THE BOLSHEVIKS IN BERLIN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> III.—AFTERNOON TEA WITH THE SULTAN </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> IV.—ECHOES OF THE WAR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> 1.—The Boy Who Came Back </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> 2.—The War Sacrifices of Mr. Spugg </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> 3.—If Germany Had Won </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> 4.—War and Peace at the Galaxy Club </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> 5.—The War News as I Remember it </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> I—THE CABLE NEWS FROM RUSSIA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> II—SAMPLE OF SPECIAL CORRESPONDENCE </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> III—THE TECHNICAL WAR DESPATCHES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> IV—THE WAR PROPHECIES </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> V—DIPLOMATIC REVELATIONS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> VI—A NEW GERMAN PEACE FORMULA </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> VII—THE FINANCIAL NEWS </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> 6.—Some Just Complaints About the War </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> 7.—Some Startling Side Effects of the War + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0026"><br /> V.—<b>OTHER IMPOSSIBILITIES</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> 1.—The Art of Conversation </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_INTR"> Introduction to H.E. the Viceroy of India, K.C.B., + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> II—HOW TO OPEN A CONVERSATION </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> 2.—Heroes and Heroines </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0031"> 3.—The Discovery of America; </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> 4.—Politics from Within </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0033"> 5.—The Lost Illusions of Mr. Sims </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0034"> 6.—Fetching the Doctor: From Recollections + of Childhood in the Canadian Countryside </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I.—The Hohenzollerns in America + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PREFACE + </h2> + <p> + The proper punishment for the Hohenzollerns, and the Hapsburgs, and the + Mecklenburgs, and the Muckendorfs, and all such puppets and princelings, + is that they should be made to work; and not made to work in the + glittering and glorious sense, as generals and chiefs of staff, and + legislators, and land-barons, but in the plain and humble part of laborers + looking for a job; that they should carry a hod and wield a trowel and + swing a pick and, at the day's end, be glad of a humble supper and a + night's rest; that they should work, in short, as millions of poor + emigrants out of Germany have worked for generations past; that there + should be about them none of the prestige of fallen grandeur; that, if it + were possible, by some trick of magic, or change of circumstance, the + world should know them only as laboring men, with the dignity and divinity + of kingship departed out of them; that, as such, they should stand or + fall, live or starve, as best they might by the work of their own hands + and brains. Could this be done, the world would have a better idea of the + thin stuff out of which autocratic kingship is fashioned. + </p> + <p> + It is a favourite fancy of mine to imagine this transformation actually + brought about; and to picture the Hohenzollerns as an immigrant family + departing for America, their trunks and boxes on their backs, their + bundles in their hands. + </p> + <p> + The fragments of a diary that here follow present the details of such a + picture. It is written, or imagined to be written, by the (former) + Princess Frederica of Hohenzollern. I do not find her name in the Almanach + de Gotha. Perhaps she does not exist. But from the text below she is to be + presumed to be one of the innumerable nieces of the German Emperor. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I — On Board the S.S. America. Wednesday + </h2> + <p> + At last our embarkation is over, and we are at sea. I am so glad it is + done. It was dreadful to see poor Uncle William and Uncle Henry and Cousin + Willie and Cousin Ferdinand of Bulgaria, coming up the gang-plank into the + steerage, with their boxes on their backs. They looked so different in + their rough clothes. Uncle William is wearing an old blue shirt and a red + handkerchief round his neck, and his hair looks thin and unkempt, and his + moustache draggled and his face unshaved. His eyes seem watery and + wandering, and his little withered arm so pathetic. Is it possible he was + always really like that? + </p> + <p> + At the top of the gang-plank he stood still a minute, his box still on his + back, and said, "This then is the pathway to Saint Helena." I heard an + officer down on the dock call up, "Now then, my man, move on there + smartly, please." And I saw some young roughs pointing at Uncle and + laughing and saying, "Look at the old guy with the red handkerchief. Is he + batty, eh?" + </p> + <p> + The forward deck of the steamer, the steerage deck, which is the only + place that we are allowed to go, was crowded with people, all poor and + with their trunks and boxes and paper bags all round them. When Uncle set + down his box, there was soon quite a little crowd around him, so that I + could hardly see him. But I could hear them laughing, and I knew that they + were "taking a rise out of him," as they call it,—just as they did + in the emigration sheds on shore. I heard Uncle say, "Let wine be brought: + I am faint;" and some one else said, "Yes, let it," and there arose a big + shout of laughter. + </p> + <p> + Cousin Willie had sneaked away with his box down to the lower deck. I + thought it mean of him not to stay with his father. I never noticed till + now what a sneaking face Cousin Willie has. In his uniform, as Crown + Prince, it was different. But in his shabby clothes, among these rough + people, he seems so changed. He walks with a mean stoop, and his eyes look + about in such a furtive way, never still. I saw one of the ship's officers + watching him, very closely and sternly. + </p> + <p> + Cousin Karl of Austria, and Cousin Ruprecht of Bavaria, are not here. We + thought they were to come on this ship, but they are not here. We could + hardly believe that the ship would sail without them. + </p> + <p> + I managed to get Uncle William out of the crowd and down below. He was + glad to get off the deck. He seemed afraid to look at the sea, and when we + got into the big cabin, he clutched at the cover of the port and said, + "Shut it, help me shut it, shut out the sound of the sea;" and then for a + little time he sat on one of the bunks all hunched up, and muttering, + "Don't let me hear the sea, don't let me hear it." His eyes looked so + queer and fixed, that I thought he must be in a sort of fit, or seizure. + But Uncle Henry and Cousin Willie and Cousin Ferdinand came into the cabin + and he got better again. + </p> + <p> + Cousin Ferdinand has got hold of a queer long overcoat with the sleeves + turned up, and a little round hat, and looks exactly like a Jew. He says + he traded one of our empty boxes for the coat and hat. I never noticed + before how queer and thick Cousin Ferdinand's speech is, and how much he + gesticulates with his hands when he talks. I am sure that when I visited + at Sofia nobody ever noticed it. And he called Uncle William and Uncle + Henry "Mister," and said that on the deck he had met two "fine gentlemen," + (that's what he called them), who are in the clothing trade in New York. + It was with them he traded for the coat. + </p> + <p> + Cousin Ferdinand, who is very clever at figures, is going to look after + all our money, because the American money is too difficult for Uncle + William and Cousin Willie to understand. We have only a little money, but + Cousin Ferdinand said that we would put it all together and make it a + pool. But when Uncle Henry laughed, and turned his pockets out and had no + money at all, Cousin Ferdinand said that it would NOT be a pool. He said + he would make it "on shares" and explained it, but I couldn't understand + what it meant. + </p> + <p> + While he was talking I saw Cousin Willie slip one of the pieces of money + out of the pile into his pocket: at least I think I saw it; but he did it + so quickly that I was not sure, and didn't like to say anything. + </p> + <p> + Then a bell rang and we went to eat in a big saloon, all crowded with + common people, and very stuffy. The food was wretched, and I could not + eat. I suppose Uncle was famished from the long waiting and the bad food + in the emigrant shed. It was dreadful to see the hungry way that he ate + the greasy stew they gave us, with his head down almost in his plate and + his moustache all unkempt. "This ragout is admirable," he said. "Let the + chef be informed that I said it." + </p> + <p> + Cousin Ferdinand didn't sit with us. He sat beside his two new friends and + they had their heads all close together and talked with great excitement. + I never knew before that Cousin Ferdinand talked Yiddish. I remember him + at Sofia, on horseback addressing his army, and I don't think he talked to + his troops in Yiddish. He was telling them, I remember, how sorry he was + that he couldn't accompany them to the front. But for "business in Sofia," + he said, he would like to be in the very front trenches, the foremost of + all. It was thought very brave of him. + </p> + <p> + When we got up from supper, the ship was heaving and rolling quite a bit. + A young man, a steward, told us that we were now out of the harbor and in + the open sea. Uncle William told him to convey his compliments to the + captain on his proper navigation of the channel. The young man looked very + closely at Uncle and said, "Sure, I'll tell him right away," but he said + it kindly. Then he said to me, when Uncle couldn't hear, "Your pa ain't + quite right, is he, Miss Hohen?" I didn't know what he meant, but, of + course, I said that Uncle William was only my uncle. Hohen is, I should + explain, the name by which we are known now. The young man said that he + wasn't really a steward, only just for the trip. He said that, because I + had a strange feeling that I had met him before, and asked him if I hadn't + seen him at one of the courts. But he said he had never been "up before + one" in his life. He said he lives in New York, and drives an ice-wagon + and is an ice-man. He said he was glad to have the pleasure of our + acquaintance. He is, I think, the first ice-man I have ever met. He + reminds me very much of the Romanoffs, the Grand Dukes of the younger + branch, I mean. But he says he is not connected with them, so far as he + knows. He said his name is Peters. We have no Almanach de Gotha here on + board the steamer, so I cannot look up his name. + </p> + <p> + S.S. America. Thursday + </p> + <p> + We had a dreadful experience last night. In the middle of the night Uncle + Henry came and called me and said that Uncle William was ill. So I put on + an old shawl and went with him. The ship was pitching and heaving with a + dreadful straining and creaking noise. A dim light burned in the cabin, + and outside there was a great roaring of the wind and the wild sound of + the sea surging against the ship. + </p> + <p> + Uncle William was half sitting up in his rough bunk, with the tattered + gray blankets over him, one hand was clutched on the side of the bed and + there was a great horror in his eyes. "The sea; the sea," he kept saying, + "don't let me hear it. It's THEIR voices. Listen! They're beating at the + sides of the ship. Keep them from me, keep them out!" + </p> + <p> + He was quiet for a minute, until there came another great rush of the sea + against the sides of the ship, and a roar of water against the port. Then + he broke out, almost screaming—"Henry, brother Henry, keep them + back! Don't let them drag me down. I never willed it. I never wanted it. + Their death is not at my door. It was necessity. Henry! Brother Henry! + Tell them not to drag me below the sea!" + </p> + <p> + Like that he raved for perhaps an hour and we tried to quiet him. Cousin + Willie had slipped away, I don't know where. Cousin Ferdinand was in his + bunk with his back turned. + </p> + <p> + "Do I slip to-night, at all," he kept growling "or do I not? Say, mister, + do I get any slip at all?" + </p> + <p> + But no one minded him. + </p> + <p> + Then daylight came and Uncle fell asleep. His face looked drawn and gray + and the cords stood out on his withered hand, which was clutched against + his shirt. + </p> + <p> + So he slept. It seemed so strange. There was no court physician, no + bulletins to reassure the world that he was sleeping quietly. + </p> + <p> + Later in the morning I saw the ship's doctor and the captain, all in + uniform, with gold braid, walking on their inspection round. + </p> + <p> + "You had some trouble here last night," I heard the captain say. + </p> + <p> + "No, nothing," the doctor answered, "only one of the steerage passengers + delirious in the night." + </p> + <p> + Later in the morning the storm had gone down and the sea was calm as + glass, and Uncle Henry and I got Uncle William up on deck. Mr. Peters, the + steward that I think I spoke about before, got us a steamer chair from the + first class that had been thrown away—quite good except for one leg,—and + Uncle William sat in it with his face away from the sea. He seemed much + shaken and looked gray and tired, but he talked quite quietly and + rationally about our going to America, and how we must all work, because + work is man's lot. He himself, he says, will take up the presidency of + Harvard University in New York, and Uncle Henry, who, of course, was our + own Grand Admiral and is a sailor, will enter as Admiral of the navy of + one of the states, probably, Uncle says, the navy of Missouri, or else + that of Colorado. + </p> + <p> + It was pleasant to hear Uncle William talk in this way, just as quietly + and rationally as at Berlin, and with the same grasp of political things. + He only got excited once, and that was when he was telling Uncle Henry + that it was his particular wish that Uncle should go to the captain and + offer to take over the navigation of the vessel. Uncle Henry is a splendid + sailor, and in all our cruises in the Baltic he used to work out all the + navigation of the vessel, except, of course, the arithmetic—which + was beneath him. + </p> + <p> + Uncle Henry laughed (he is always so good natured) and said that he had + had enough of being Admiral to last him all his life. But when Uncle + William insisted, he said he would see what he could do. + </p> + <p> + S.S. America. Friday + </p> + <p> + All yesterday and to-day the sea was quite calm, and we could sit on deck. + I was glad because, in the cabin where I am, there are three other women, + and it is below the water-line, and is very close and horrid. So when it + is rough, I can only sit in the alley-way with my knitting. There the + light is very dim and the air bad. But I do not complain. It is woman's + lot. Uncle William and Cousin Willie have both told me this—that it + is woman's lot to bear and to suffer; and they said it with such complete + resignation that I feel I ought to imitate their attitude. + </p> + <p> + Cousin Ferdinand, too, is very brave about the dirt and the discomfort of + being on board the ship. He doesn't seem to mind the dirt at all, and his + new friends (Mr. Sheehan and Mr. Mosenhammer) seem to bear it so well, + too. Uncle Henry goes and washes his hands and face at one of the ship's + pumps before every meal, with a great noise and splashing, but Cousin + Ferdinand says, "For me the pump, no." He says that nothing like that + matters now, and that his only regret is that he did not fall at the head + of his troops, as he would have done if he had not been detained by + business. + </p> + <p> + I caught sight of Cousin Karl of Austria! So it seems he is on the ship + after all. He was up on the promenade deck where the first class + passengers are, and of which you can just see one end from down here in + the steerage. Cousin Karl had on a waiter's suit and was bringing + something to drink to two men who were in steamer chairs on the deck. I + don't know whether he saw me or not, but if he did he didn't give any sign + of recognizing me. One of the men gave Cousin Karl a piece of money and I + was sure it was he, from the peculiar, cringing way in which he bowed. It + was just the manner that he used to have at Vienna with his cousin, Franz + Ferdinand, and with dear old Uncle Franz Joseph. + </p> + <p> + We always thought, we girls I mean, that it was Cousin Karl who had Cousin + Franz Ferdinand blown up at Serajevo. I remember once we dared Cousin + Zita, Karl's wife, to ask Uncle William if it really was Karl. But Uncle + William spoke very gravely, and said that it was not a thing for us to + discuss, and that if Karl did it, it was an "act of State," and no doubt + very painful to Cousin Karl to have to do. Zita asked Uncle if Karl + poisoned dear old Uncle Franz Joseph, because some of Karl's best and most + intimate friends said that he did. But Uncle said very positively, "No," + that dear old Uncle Franz Joseph had not needed any poison, but had died, + very naturally, under the hands of Uncle William's own physician, who was + feeling his wind-pipe at the time. + </p> + <p> + Of course, all these things seem very far away now. But seeing Cousin Karl + on the upper deck, reminded me of all the harmless gossip and tattle that + used to go on among us girls in the old days. + </p> + <p> + Friday afternoon + </p> + <p> + I saw Cousin Willie on the deck this afternoon. I had not seen him all day + yesterday as he seems to keep out of sight. His eyes looked bloodshot and + I was sure that he had been drinking. + </p> + <p> + I asked him where he had been in the storm while Uncle William was ill. He + gave a queer sort of leering chuckle and said, "Over there," and pointed + backwards with his thumb towards the first class part of the ship. Then he + said, "Come here a minute," and he led me round a corner to where no one + could see, and showed me a gold brooch and two diamond rings. He told me + not to tell the others, and then he tried to squeeze my hand and to pull + me towards him, in such a horrid way, but I broke away and went back. + Since then I have been trying to think how he could have got the brooch + and the rings. But I cannot think. + </p> + <p> + S.S. America. Saturday + </p> + <p> + To-day when I went up on deck, the first thing I saw was Uncle Henry. I + hardly recognized him. He had on an old blue sailor's jersey, and was + cleaning up a brass rail with a rag. I asked him why he was dressed like + that and Uncle Henry laughed and said he had become an admiral. I couldn't + think what he meant, as I never guess things with a double meaning, so he + explained that he has got work as a sailor for the voyage across. I + thought he looked very nice in his sailor's jersey, much nicer than in the + coat with gold facings, when he was our High Admiral. He reminded me very + much of those big fair-haired Norwegian sailors that we used to see when + we went on the Meteor to Flekkefyord and Gildeskaale. I am sure that he + will be of great service to this English captain, in helping to work the + ship across. + </p> + <p> + When Cousin Ferdinand came up on deck with his two friends, Mr. + Mosenhammer and Mr. Sheehan, he was very much interested in Uncle Henry's + having got work. He made an arrangement right away that he would borrow + Uncle Henry's wages, and that Mr. Sheehan would advance them, and he would + then add it to our capital, and then he would take it and keep it. Uncle + Henry is to get what is called, in the new money, one seventy-five a day, + and to get it for four days, and Cousin Ferdinand says that comes to four + dollars and a quarter. Cousin Ferdinand is very quick with figures. He + says that he will have to take out a small commission for managing the + money for Uncle Henry, and that later on he will tell Uncle Henry how much + will be left after taking it out. Uncle Henry said all right and went on + with his brass work. It is strange how his clothes seem to change him. He + looks now just like a rough, common sailor. + </p> + <p> + S.S. America. Tuesday + </p> + <p> + To-day our voyage is to end. I am so glad. When we came on deck Mr. Peters + told me that we were in sight of land. He told me the names of the places, + but they were hard and difficult to remember, like Long Island and Sandy + Hook; not a bit like our dear old simple German names. + </p> + <p> + So we were all told to put our things together and get ready to land. I + got, out of one of our boxes, an old frock coat for Uncle William. It is + frayed at the ends of the sleeves and it shines a little, but I had + stitched it here and there and it looked quite nice. He put it on with a + pair of gray trousers that are quite good, and not very much bagged, and I + had knitted for him a red necktie that he wears over his blue shirt with a + collar, called a celluloid collar, that American gentlemen wear. + </p> + <p> + The sea is so calm that Uncle doesn't mind being on deck now, and he even + came close to the bulwarks, which he wouldn't do all the way across. He + stood there in quite an attitude with his imperfect hand folded into his + coat. He looked something, but not quite, as he used to look on the deck + of the Meteor in the Baltic. + </p> + <p> + Presently he said, "Henry, your arm!" and walked up and down with Uncle + Henry. I could see that the other passengers were quite impressed with the + way Uncle looked, and it pleased him. I heard some rough young loafers + saying, "Catch on to the old Dutch, will you? Eh, what?" + </p> + <p> + Uncle Henry is going ashore just as he is, in his blue jersey. But Cousin + Ferdinand has put on a bright red tie that Mr. Mosenhammer has loaned to + him for three hours. + </p> + <p> + Cousin Willie only came on deck at the very last minute, and he seemed + anxious to slink behind the other passengers and to keep out of sight. I + think it must have something to do with the brooch that he showed me, and + the rings. His eyes looked very red and bloodshot and his face more + crooked and furtive than ever. I am sure that he had been drinking again. + </p> + <p> + I have written the last lines of this diary sitting on the deck. We have + just passed a huge statue that rises out of the water, the name of which + they mentioned but I can't remember, as it was not anything I ever heard + of before. + </p> + <p> + Just think—in a little while we shall land in America! + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II — City New York. 2nd Avenue + </h2> + <p> + We came off the steamer late yesterday afternoon and came across the city + to a pension on Second Avenue where we are now. Only here they don't call + it a pension but a boarding house. Cousin Ferdinand and Cousin Willie + drove across in the cart with our boxes, and Uncle William and Uncle Henry + and I came on a street car. It cost us fifteen cents. A cent is four and + one-sixth pfennigs. We tried to reckon what it came to, but we couldn't; + but Uncle Henry thinks it could be done. + </p> + <p> + This house is a tall house in a mean street, crowded and noisy with carts + and street-sellers. I think it would be better to have all the boarding + houses stand far back from the street with elm trees and fountains and + lawns where peacocks could walk up and down. I am sure it would be MUCH + better. + </p> + <p> + We have taken a room for Uncle William and Uncle Henry on the third floor + at the back and a small room in the front for me of the kind called a hall + bedroom, which I don't ever remember seeing before. There were none at + Sans Souci and none, I think, at any of the palaces. Cousin Willie has a + room at the top of the house, and Cousin Ferdinand in the basement. + </p> + <p> + The landlady of this house is very stout and reminds me very much of the + Grand Duchess of Sondersburg-Augustenburg: her manner when she showed us + the rooms was very like that of the Grand Duchess; only perhaps a little + firmer and more authoritative. But it appears that they are probably not + related, as the landlady's name is Mrs. O'Halloran, which is, I think, + Scotch. + </p> + <p> + When we arrived it was already time for dinner so we went downstairs to it + at once. The dining-room was underground in the basement. It was very + crowded and stuffy, and there was a great clatter of dishes and a heavy + smell of food. Most of the people were already seated, but there was an + empty place at the head of one of the tables and Uncle William moved + straight towards that. Uncle was wearing, as I said, his frock coat and + his celluloid collar and he walked into the room with quite an air, in + something of the way that he used to come into the great hall of the Neues + Palais at Potsdam, only that in these clothes it looked different. As + Uncle entered the room he waved his hand and said, "Let no one rise!" I + remember that when Uncle said this at the big naval dinner at Kiel it made + a great sensation as an example of his ready tact. He realised that if + they had once risen there would have been great difficulty in their order + of procedure for sitting down again. He was afraid that the same + difficulty might have been felt here in the boarding house. But I don't + think it would, and I don't think that they were going to stand up, + anyway. They just went on eating. I noticed one cheap-looking young man + watching Uncle with a sort of half smile as he moved towards his seat. I + heard him say to his neighbour, "Some scout, eh?" + </p> + <p> + The food was so plain and so greasy that I could hardly eat it. But I have + noticed that it is a strange thing about Uncle that he doesn't seem to + know what he eats at all. He takes all this poor stuff that they put + before him to be the same delicacies that we had at the Neues Palais and + Sans Souci. "Is this a pheasant?" he asked when the servant maid passed + him his dish of meat. I heard the mean young man whisper, "I guess not." + Presently some hash was brought in and Uncle said, "Ha! A Salmi! Ha! + excellent!" I could see that Mrs. O'Halloran, the landlady, who sat at the + other end of the table, was greatly pleased. + </p> + <p> + I was surprised to find—because it is so hard to get used to the + change of things in our new life—that all the people went on talking + just the same after Uncle sat down. At the palace at Potsdam nobody ever + spoke at dinner unless Uncle William first addressed him, and then he was + supposed to give a sort of bow and answer as briefly as possible so as not + to interrupt the flow of Uncle William's conversation. Generally Uncle + talked and all the rest listened. His conversation was agreed by everybody + to be wonderful. Princes, admirals, bishops, artists, scholars and + everybody united in declaring that Uncle William showed a range of + knowledge and a brilliance of language that was little short of + marvellous. So naturally it was a little disappointing at first to find + that these people just went on talking to one another and didn't listen to + Uncle William at all, or merely looked at him in an inquisitive sort of + way and whispered remarks to one another. But presently, I don't just know + how, Uncle began to get the attention of the table and one after the other + the people stopped talking to listen to him. I was very glad of this + because Uncle was talking about America and I was sure that it would + interest them, as what he said was very much the same as the wonderful + speech that he made to the American residents of Berlin at the time when + the first exchange professor was sent over to the University. I remember + that all the Americans who heard it said that Uncle told them things about + their own country that they had never known, or even suspected, before. So + I was glad when I heard Uncle explaining to these people the wonderful + possibilities of their country. He talked of the great plains of + Connecticut and the huge seaports of Pittsburg and Colorado Springs, and + the tobacco forests of Idaho till one could just see it all. He said that + the Mississippi, which is a great river here as large as the Weser, should + be dammed back and held while a war of extermination was carried on + against the Indians on the other side of it with a view to Christianizing + them. The people listened, their faces flushed with eating and with the + close air. Here and there some of them laughed or nudged one another and + said, "Get on to this, will you?" But I remember that when Uncle William + made this speech in Berlin the Turkish ambassador said after it that he + now knew so much about America that he wanted to die, and that the Shah of + Persia wrote a letter to Uncle, all in his own writing, except the longest + words, and said that he had ordered Uncle's speech on America to be + printed and read aloud by all the schoolmasters in Persia under penalty of + decapitation. Nearly all of them read it. + </p> + <p> + Wednesday + </p> + <p> + This morning we had a great disappointment. It had been pretty well + arranged on board the ship that Uncle would take over the presidency of + Harvard University. Uncle Henry and Cousin Ferdinand and Cousin Willie had + all consented to it, and we looked upon it as done. Now it seems there is + a mistake. First of all Harvard University is not in New York, as we had + always thought in Germany that it was. I remember that when Uncle Henry + came home from his great tour in America, in which he studied American + institutions so profoundly, and made his report he said that Harvard + University was in New York. Uncle had this information filed away in our + Secret Service Department. + </p> + <p> + But it seems that it is somewhere else. The University here is called + Columbia, so Uncle decided that he would be president of that. In the old + days all the great men of learning used to assure Uncle that if fate had + not made him an emperor he would have been better fitted than any living + man to be the head of a great university. Uncle admitted this himself, + though he resented being compared only to the living ones. + </p> + <p> + So it was a great disappointment to-day when they refused to give him the + presidency. I went with him to the college, but I cannot quite understand + what happened or why they won't give it to him. We walked all the way up + and I carried a handbag filled with Uncle's degrees and diplomas from + Oxford and all over the world. All the way up Uncle talked about the + majesty and the freedom of learning and what he would do to the college + when he was made president, and how all the professors should sit up and + obey him. At times he got so excited that he would stop on the street and + wave his hands and gesticulate so that people turned and looked at him. At + Potsdam we never realized that Uncle was excited all the time, and, in any + case, with his uniform on and his sabre clattering as he walked, it all + seemed different. But here in the street, in his faded frock coat and + knitted tie, and with his face flushed and his eyes rambling, people + seemed to mistake it and thought that his mind was not quite right. + </p> + <p> + So I think he made a wrong impression when we went into the offices of the + college. Uncle was still quite excited from his talking. "Let the trustees + be brought," he said in a peremptory way to the two young men in black + frock coats, secretaries of some sort, I suppose, who received us. Then he + turned to me. "Princess," he said, "my diplomas!" He began pulling them + out of the bag and throwing them on the table in a wild sort of way. The + other people waiting in the room were all staring at him. Then the young + men took Uncle by the arm and led him into an inner room and I went out + into the corridor and waited. Presently one of the young men came out and + told me not to wait, as Uncle had been sent home in a cab. He was very + civil and showed me where to go to get the elevated railroad. But while I + was waiting I had overheard some of the people talking about Uncle. One + said, "That's that same old German that was on board our ship last week in + the steerage—has megalomania or something of the sort, they say, and + thinks he's the former Emperor: I saw the Kaiser once at a review in + Berlin,—not much resemblance, is there?" + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + For weeks and weeks I have written nothing in my diary because it has been + so discouraging. After Uncle William's offer to take over the presidency + of Columbia University had been refused, he debated with Uncle Henry and + with Cousin Ferdinand of Bulgaria (who is not living in our boarding house + now but who comes over quite often in the evenings) whether he would + accept the presidency of Harvard. Cousin Ferdinand looked up the salary in + a book and told him not to take it. Cousin Ferdinand has little books with + all the salaries of people in America and he says that these books are + fine and much better than the Almanach de Gotha which we used to use in + Europe to hunt people up. He says that if he ever goes back to be King of + Bulgaria again he is going to introduce books like these. Cousin Ferdinand + is getting very full of American ideas and he says that what you want to + know about a man is not his line of descent but his line of credit. And he + says that the whole King business in Europe has been mismanaged. He says + that there should have been millions in it. I forgot to say in my diary + sooner that Cousin Ferdinand's two friends, Mr. Mosenhammer and Mr. + Sheehan, took him into their clothing business at once as a sort of + partner. The reason was that they found that he could wear clothes; the + effect on the customers when they see Cousin Ferdinand walking up and down + in front of the store is wonderful. Of course all kings can wear clothes + and in the old days in the Potsdam palace we thought nothing of it. But + Cousin Ferdinand says that the kings should have known enough to stop + trying to be soldiers and to put themselves at the head of the export + clothing trade. He wishes, he says, that he had some of his Bulgarian + generals here now in their blue coats trimmed with black fur; he says that + with a little alteration, which he showed us how to do, he could have sent + them out "on the road," wherever that is, and have made the biggest boom + in gentlemen's winter fur trimmings that the trade ever saw. + </p> + <p> + Cousin Ferdinand, when he comes over in the evenings now, is always + beautifully dressed and I can notice that Mrs. O'Halloran, the landlady, + is much impressed with him. I am glad of this because we have not yet been + able to pay her any money and I was afraid she might say something about + it. But what is stranger is that now that Cousin Ferdinand has good + clothes, Uncle William and Uncle Henry seem much impressed too. Uncle + Henry looks so plain and common in his sailor's jersey, and Uncle William + in his old frock coat looks faded and shabby and his face always vacant + and wondering. So now when Cousin Ferdinand comes in they stand up and get + a chair for him and listen to his advice on everything. + </p> + <p> + So, as I said, Cousin Ferdinand looked up the salary of the President of + Harvard in a book and he was strongly against Uncle William's taking the + position. But Uncle William says this kind of position is the nearest + thing in this country to what he had in Germany. He thinks that he could + do for Harvard what he did for Germany. He has written out on a big sheet + of paper all the things that he calls the Chief Needs of America, because + he is always busy like this and never still. I forget the whole list, + especially as he changes it every day according to the way that people + treat Uncle William on the street, but the things that he always puts + first are Culture, Religion, and Light. These he says he can supply, and + he thought that the presidency of Harvard would be the best place to do it + from. In the end he accepted the position against Cousin Ferdinand's + advice, or at least I mean he said that he would be willing to take it and + he told Uncle Henry to pack up all his degrees and diplomas and to send + them to Harvard and say that he was coming. + </p> + <p> + So it was dreadfully disappointing when all the diplomas came back again + by the next post. There was a letter with them but I didn't see it, as + Uncle William tore it into fragments and stamped on it. He said he was + done with American universities for ever: I have never seen him so + furious: he named over on his fingers all the American professors that he + had fed at Berlin, one meal each and sometimes even two,—Uncle has a + wonderful memory for things like that,—and yet this was their + gratitude. He walked up and down his room and talked so wildly and + incoherently that if I had not known and been told so often by our + greatest authorities in Germany how beautifully balanced Uncle William's + brain is, I should have feared that he was wandering. + </p> + <p> + But presently he quieted down and said with deep earnestness that the + American universities must now go to ruin in their own way. He was done + with them. He said he would go into a cloister and spend his life in quiet + adoration, provided that he could find anything to adore, which, he said, + in his station was very doubtful. But half an hour later he was quite + cheerful again,—it is wonderful how quickly Uncle William's brain + recovers itself,—and said that a cloister was too quiet and that he + would take a position as Governor of a State; there are a great many of + these in this country and Uncle spent days and days writing letters to + them and when the answers came in— though some never answered at all—Uncle + William got into the same state of fury as about the Presidency of + Harvard. So, naturally, each day seemed more disappointing than the last, + especially with the trouble that we have been having with Cousin Willie, + of which I have not spoken yet, and I was getting quite disheartened until + last evening, when everything seemed to change. + </p> + <p> + We all knew, of course, that Uncle William is the greatest artist in the + world, but no one liked to suggest that he should sell his pictures for + money, a thing that no prince was ever capable of doing. Yet I could not + but feel glad when Uncle decided yesterday that he would stoop to make his + living by art. It cost him a great struggle to make this decision, but he + talked it over very fully last night with Uncle Henry, after Uncle Henry + came home from work, and the resolution is taken. + </p> + <p> + Of course, Uncle always had a wonderful genius for painting. I remember + how much his pictures used to be admired at the court at Berlin. I have + seen some of the best painters stand absolutely entranced,—they said + so themselves,—in front of Uncle's canvasses. I remember one of the + greatest of our artists saying one day to Uncle in the Potsdam Gallery, + "Now, which of these two pictures is yours and which is Michel Angelo's: I + never can tell you two apart." Uncle gave him the order of the Red Swan. + Another painter once said that if Uncle's genius had been developed he + would have been the greatest painter of modern times. Uncle William, I + remember, was dreadfully angry. He said it WAS developed. + </p> + <p> + So it seemed only natural that Uncle should turn to Art to make our + living. But he hesitated because there is some doubt whether a person of + noble birth can sell anything for money. But Uncle says Tintoretto the + great Italian artist had two quarterings of nobility, and Velasquez had + two and a half. + </p> + <p> + Luckily we have with us among our things Uncle's easel and his paints that + he used in Berlin. He had always to have special things because he doesn't + use little brushes and tubes of colour as ordinary artists do, but had a + big brush and his paint in a tin can, so that he can work more quickly. + Fortunately we have with us three of Uncle's pictures rolled up in the + bottom of our boxes. He is going to sell these first and after that he + says that he will paint one or two every day. One of the three canvasses + that we have is an allegorical picture called "Progress" in which Progress + is seen coming out of a cloud in the background with Uncle William + standing in the foreground. Another is called "Modern Science" and in this + Science is seen crouched in the dark in the background and Uncle William + standing in the light in the foreground. The other is called "Midnight in + the Black Forest." Uncle William did it in five minutes with a pot of + black paint. They say it is impressionistic. + </p> + <p> + So all the evening Uncle William and Uncle Henry talked about the new + plan. It is wonderful how Uncle William enters into a thing. He got me to + fetch him his old blue blouse, which was with the painting things, and he + put it on over his clothes and walked up and down the room with a long + paint-brush in his hand. "We painters, my dear Henry," he said, "must not + be proud. America needs Art. Very good. She shall have it." + </p> + <p> + I could see, of course, that Uncle William did not like the idea of + selling pictures for money. But he is going to make that side of it less + objectionable by painting a picture, a very large picture, for nothing and + giving it to the big Metropolitan Art Gallery which is here. Uncle has + already partly thought it out. It is to be called the "Spirit of America" + and in it the Spirit of America will be seen doubled up in the background: + Uncle has not yet fully thought out the foreground, but he says he has an + idea. + </p> + <p> + In any case he is going to refuse to take anything more than a modest + price for his pictures. Beyond that, he says, not one pfennig. + </p> + <p> + So this morning Uncle rolled up his three canvasses under his arm and has + gone away to sell them. + </p> + <p> + I am very glad, as we have but little money, indeed hardly any except + Uncle Henry's wages. And I have been so worried, too, and surprised since + we came here about Cousin Willie. He hardly is with the rest of us at all. + He is out all night and sleeps in the day time, and often I am sure that + he has been drinking. One morning when he came back to the house at about + breakfast time he showed me quite a handful of money, but wouldn't say + where he got it. He said there was lots more where it came from. I asked + him to give me some to pay Mrs. O'Halloran, but he only laughed in his + leering way and said that he needed it all. At another time when I went up + to Cousin Willie's room one day when he was out, I saw quite a lot of + silver things hidden in a corner of the cupboard. They looked like goblets + and silver dinner things, and there was a revolver and a sheath-knife + hidden with them. I began to think that he must have stolen all these + things, though it seemed impossible for a prince. I have spoken to Uncle + William several times about Cousin Willie, but he gets impatient and does + not seem to care. Uncle never desires very much to talk of people other + than himself. I think it fatigues his mind. In any case, he says that he + has done for Willie already all that he could. He says he had him confined + to a fortress three times and that four times he refused to have him in + his sight for a month, and that twice he banished him to a country estate + for six weeks. His duty, he says, is done. I said that I was afraid that + Cousin Willie had been stealing and told him about the silver things + hidden in the cupboard. But Uncle got very serious and read me a very + severe lecture. No prince, he said, ever stole. His son, he explained, + might very well be collecting souvenirs as memorials of his residence in + America: all the Hohenzollerns collected souvenirs: some of our most + beautiful art things at Potsdam and Sans Souci were souvenirs collected by + our ancestors in France fifty years ago. Uncle said that if the Great War + had turned out as it should and if his soldiers had not betrayed him by + getting killed, we should have had more souvenirs than ever. After that he + dismissed the subject from his mind. Uncle William can dismiss things from + his mind more quickly than anybody I ever knew. + </p> + <p> + The Same Day. Later + </p> + <p> + I was so surprised this afternoon, when I happened to go down to the door, + to see Mr. Peters, the ice gentleman that was on the ship, with his ice + cart delivering ice into the basement. I knew that he delivered ice in + this part of the city because he said so, and I think he had mentioned + this street, and two or three times I thought I had seen him from the + window. But it did seem surprising to happen to go down to the door (I + forget what I went for) at the moment that he was there. He looked very + fine in his big rough suit of overalls. It is not quite like a military + uniform, but I think it looks better. Mr. Peters knew me at once. "Good + afternoon, Miss Hohen," he said (that is the name, as I think I said, that + we have here), "how are all the folks?" + </p> + <p> + So we talked for quite a little time, and I told him about Uncle trying to + get work and how hard it was and how at last he had got work, or at least + had gone out to get it, as a painter. Mr. Peters said that that was fine. + He said that painters do well here: he has a lot of friends who are + painters and they get all the way from sixty to seventy-five cents an + hour. It seems so odd to think of them being paid by the hour. I don't + think the court artists at home were paid like that. It will be very nice + if Uncle William can mingle with Mr. Peters's artist friends. Mr. Peters + asked if he might take me out some Sunday, and I said that I would ask + Uncle William and Uncle Henry and Cousin Ferdinand and Cousin Willie and + if they all consented to come I would go. I hope it was not a forward + thing to do. + </p> + <p> + I forgot when I was talking of work to say that Uncle Henry got work the + very second day that we were here. He works down at the docks where the + ships are. I think he supervises the incoming and outgoing of the American + navy. It is called being a stevedore, and no doubt his being an Admiral + helped him to get it. He hopes to get a certificate presently to be a + Barge Master, which will put him in charge of the canals. But there is a + very difficult examination to go through and Uncle Henry is working for it + at night out of a book. He has to take up Vulgar Fractions which, of + course, none of our High Seas Command were asked to learn. But Uncle Henry + is stooping to them. + </p> + <p> + So now, I think, everything will go well. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + Uncle's art has failed. It was only yesterday that I was writing in my + memoirs of how cheerful and glad I felt to think that Uncle William was + going to be able to make his living by art, and now everything is changed + again. All the time that Uncle was out on his visit to the picture + dealers, I was making plans and thinking what we would do with the money + when it came in, so it is very disappointing to have it all come to + nothing. I don't know just what happened because Uncle William never gives + any details of things. His mind moves too rapidly for that. But he came + home with his pictures still under his arm in a perfect fury and raged up + and down his room, using very dreadful language. + </p> + <p> + But after a little while when he grew calmer he explained to me that the + Americans are merely swineheads and that art, especially art such as his, + is wasted on them. Uncle says that he has no wish to speak harshly of the + Americans, but they are pig-dogs. He bears them no ill-will, he says, for + what they have done and his heart is free of any spirit of vengeance, but + he wishes he had his heel on their necks for about half a minute. He said + this with such a strange dreadful snarl that for the moment his face + seemed quite changed. But presently when he recovered himself he got quite + cheerful again, and said that it was perhaps unseemly in him, as the guest + of the American people, to say anything against them. It is strange how + Uncle always refers to himself as the guest of the American people. Living + in this poor place, in these cheap surroundings, it seems so odd. Often at + our meals in the noisy dining-room down in the basement, in the speeches + that he makes to the boarders, he talks of himself as the guest of America + and he says, "What does America ask in return? Nothing." I can see that + Mrs. O'Halloran, the landlady, doesn't like this, because we have not paid + her anything for quite a long time, and she has spoken to me about it in + the corridor several times. + </p> + <p> + But when Uncle William makes speeches in the dining-room I think the whole + room becomes transformed for him into the banquet room of a palace, and + the cheap bracket lamps against the wall turn into a blaze of light and + the boarders are all courtiers, and he becomes more and more + grandiloquent. He waves his hand towards Uncle Henry and refers to him as + "my brother the Admiral," and to me as "the Princess at my side." Some of + the people, the meaner ones, begin to laugh and to whisper, and others + look uncomfortable and sorry. And it is always on these occasions that + Uncle William refers to himself as America's guest, and refers to the + Americans as the hospitable nation who have taken him to their heart. I + think that when Uncle says this he really believes it; Uncle can believe + practically anything if he says it himself. + </p> + <p> + So, as I say, when he came home yesterday, after failing to sell his + pictures, he was at first furious and then he fell into his other mood and + he said that, as the guest of a great people, he had found out at last the + return he could make to them. He said that he would organise a School of + Art, and as soon as he had got the idea he was carried away with it at + once and seized a pencil and paper and began making plans for the school + and drawing up a list of the instructors needed. He asked first who could + be Principal, or President, of the School, and decided that he would have + to be that himself as he knew of no one but himself who had the peculiar + power of organisation needed for it. All the technical instructors, he + said, must be absolutely the best, each one a master in his own line. So + he wrote down at the top of his list, Instructor in Oils, and reflected a + little, with his head in his hand, as to who could do that. Presently he + sighed and said that as far as he knew there was no one; he'd have to do + that himself. Then he wrote down Instructor in Water Colour, and as soon + as he had written it he said right off that he would have to take that + over too; there was no one else that he could trust it to. Then he said, + "Now, let me see, Perspective, Freehand, and Crayon Work. I need three + men: three men of the first class. Can I get them? I doubt it. Let me + think what can be done." + </p> + <p> + He walked up and down the room a little with his hands behind his back and + his head sunk in thought while he murmured, "Three men? Three men? But Ha! + why THREE? Why not, if sufficiently gifted, ONE man?" + </p> + <p> + But just when he was saying this there was a knock at the door and Mrs. + O'Halloran came in. I knew at once what she had come for, because she had + been threatening to do it, and so I felt dreadfully nervous when she began + to say that our bill at the house had gone unpaid too long and that we + must pay her at once what we owed her. It took some time before Uncle + William understood what she was talking about, but when he did he became + dreadfully frigid and polite. He said, "Let me understand clearly, madame, + just what it is that you wish to say: do I apprehend that you are saying + that my account here for our maintenance is now due and payable?" Mrs. + O'Halloran said yes, she was. And Uncle said, "Let me endeavour to grasp + your meaning exactly: am I correct in thinking that you mean I owe you + money?" Mrs. O'Halloran said that was what she meant. Uncle said, "Let me + try to apprehend just as accurately as possible what it is that you are + trying to tell me: is my surmise correct that you are implying that it is + time that I settled up my bill?" + </p> + <p> + Mrs. O'Halloran said, "Yes," but I could see that by this time she was + getting quite flustered because there was something so dreadfully chilling + in Uncle's manner: his tone in a way was courtesy itself, but there was + something in it calculated to make Mrs. O'Halloran feel that she had + committed a dreadful breach in what she had done. Uncle William told me + afterwards that to mention money to a prince is not a permissible thing, + and that no true Hohenzollern has ever allowed the word "bill" to be said + in his presence, and that for this reason he had tried, out of courtesy, + to give the woman every chance to withdraw her words and had only + administered a reprimand to her when she failed to do so. Certainly it was + a dreadful rebuke that he gave her. He told her that he must insist on + this topic being dismissed and never raised again: that he could allow no + such discussion: the subject was one, he said, that he must absolutely + refuse to entertain: he did not wish, he said, to speak with undue + severity, but he had better make it plain that if there were any renewal + of this discussion he should feel it impossible to remain in the house. + </p> + <p> + While Uncle William was saying all this Mrs. O'Halloran was getting more + and more confused and angry, and when Uncle finally opened the door for + her with cold dignity, she backed out of it and found herself outside the + room without seeming to know what she was doing. Presently I could hear + her down in the scullery below, rattling dishes and saying that she was + just as good as anybody. + </p> + <p> + But Uncle William seemed to be wonderfully calmed and elevated after this + scene, and said, "Princess, bring me my flute." I brought it to him and he + sat by the window and leaned his head out over the back lane and played + our dear old German melodies, till somebody threw a boot at him. The + people about here are not musical. But meantime Uncle William had + forgotten all about the School of Art, and he said no more about it. + </p> + <p> + Next Day + </p> + <p> + To-day a dreadful thing has happened. The police have come into the house + and have taken Cousin Willie away. He is now in a place called The Tombs, + and Mr. Peters says that he will be sent to the great prison at Sing-Sing. + He is to be tried for robbery and for stabbing with intent to kill. + </p> + <p> + It was very dreadful when they came to take him. I was so glad that Uncle + William was not here to see it all. But it was in the morning and he had + gone out to see a steamship company about being president of it, and I was + tidying up our rooms, because Mrs. O'Halloran won't tidy them up any more + or let the coloured servant tidy them up until we pay her more money. She + said that to me, but I think she is afraid to say it to Uncle William. So + I mean to do the work now while Uncle is out and not let him know. + </p> + <p> + This morning, in the middle of the morning, while I was working, all of a + sudden I heard the street door open and slam and some one rushing up the + stairway: and then Cousin Willie broke into the room, all panting and + excited, and his face grey with fright and gasping out, "Hide me, hide + me!" He ran from room to room whining and hysterical, and his breath + coming in a sort of sob, but he seemed incapable of deciding what to do. I + would have hidden him if I could, but at the very next moment I heard the + policemen coming in below, and the voice of the landlady. Then they came + upstairs, big strong-looking men in blue, any one of whom could have + choked Cousin Willie with one hand. Cousin Willie ran to and fro like a + cornered rat, and two of the men seized him and then I think he must have + been beside himself with fear for I saw his teeth bite into the man's hand + that held him, and one of the policemen struck him hard with his wooden + club across the head and he fell limp to the floor. They dragged him down + the stairway like that and I followed them down, but there was nothing + that I could do. I saw them lift Cousin Willie into a closed black wagon + that stood at the street door with quite a little crowd of people gathered + about it already, all excited and leering as if it were a show. And then + they drove away with him and I came in and went upstairs and sat down in + Uncle's room but I could not work any more. A little later on Mr. Peters + came to the house,—I don't know why, because it was not for the ice + as he had his other clothes on,—and he came upstairs and sat down + and told me about what had happened. It seemed a strange thing to receive + him upstairs in Uncle's bedroom like that, but I was so upset that I did + not think about it at the time. Mr. Peters had been on our street with his + ice wagon when the police came, though I did not see him. But he saw me, + he said, standing at the door. And I think he must have gone home and + changed his things and come back again, but I did not ask him. + </p> + <p> + He told me that Cousin Willie had stabbed a man, or at least a boy, that + was in charge of a jewelry shop, and that the boy might die. Cousin + Willie, Mr. Peters says, has been stealing jewelry nearly ever since we + came here and the police have been watching him but he did not know this + and so he had grown quite foolhardy, and this morning in broad daylight he + went into some sort of jewelry or pawn shop where there was only a boy + watching the shop, and the boy was a cripple. Cousin Willie had planned to + hide the things under his coat and to sneak out but the boy saw what he + was doing and cried out, and when Cousin Willie tried to break out of the + shop he hobbled to the door and threw himself in the way. And then it was + that Cousin Willie stabbed him with his sheath-knife,—the one that I + had seen in his room,—and ran. But already there was a great outcry + and the people followed on his tracks and shouted to the police, and so + they easily ran him down. + </p> + <p> + All of this Mr. Peters told me, but he couldn't stay very long and had to + go again. He says he is going to see what can be done for Cousin Willie + but I am afraid that he doesn't feel very sorry for him; but after Mr. + Peters had gone I could not help going on thinking about it all and it + seemed to me as if Cousin Willie had not altogether had a fair chance in + life. Common people are brought up in fear of prison and punishment and + they learn to do what they should. But Cousin Willie was brought up as a + prince and was above imprisonment and things like that. And in any case he + seemed, when the big men seized hold of him, such a paltry and miserable + thing. + </p> + <p> + Later on in the day Uncle William came home and I had to tell him all + about Cousin Willie. I had feared that he would be dreadfully upset, but + he was much less disturbed than I had thought. Indeed it is quite + wonderful the way in which Uncle can detach his mind from things. + </p> + <p> + I told him that Mr. Peters had said that Cousin Willie must go to + Sing-Sing, and Uncle said, "Ha! a fortress?" So I told him that I thought + it was. After that he asked if Cousin Willie was in his uniform at the + time, and when I said that he was not, Uncle said "That may make it more + difficult." Of course Cousin Willie has no uniform here in America and + doesn't wear any, but I notice that Uncle William begins to mix up our old + life with our life here and seems sometimes quite confused and wandering; + at least other people would think him so. He went on talking quite a long + time about what had happened and he said that there is an almost exact + precedent for the "incident" (that's what he calls it) in the Zabern Case. + I don't remember much about that, as it was years ago, before the war, but + Uncle William said that it was a similar case of an officer finding + himself compelled to pass his sword once through a cripple (only once, + Uncle says) in order to clear himself a way on the sidewalk. Uncle quoted + a good many other precedents for passing swords through civilians, but he + says that this is the best one. + </p> + <p> + In the evening Cousin Ferdinand and Uncle Henry came over. Uncle Henry + seemed very gloomy and depressed about what had happened and said very + little, but Cousin Ferdinand was very much excited and angry. He said what + is the good of all his honesty and his industry if he is to be disgraced + like this: he asked of what use is his uprightness and business integrity + if he is to have a first cousin in Sing-Sing. He said that if it was known + that he had a cousin there it would damage him with his best trade to an + incalculable extent. But later on he quieted down and said that perhaps + with a certain part of his trade it would work the other way. Uncle + Ferdinand has grown to be much interested in what is called here + "advertising,"—a thing that he says all kings ought to study—and + he decided, after he had got over his first indignation, that Cousin + Willie being in Sing-Sing would be a very good advertisement for him. It + might bring him, he said, quite a lot of new business; especially if it + was known that he refused to help Cousin Willie in any way or to have + anything more to do with any of the rest of us, and not to give us any + money. He said that this was a point of view which people could respect + and admire. + </p> + <p> + So before he went home he said that we must not expect to see or hear from + him any more, unless, of course, things should in some way brighten up, in + which case he would come back. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + It is a long time—nearly three months—since I have added + anything to my memoirs. The truth is I find it very hard to write memoirs + here. For one thing nobody else seems to do it. Mrs. O'Halloran tells me + that she never thinks of writing memoirs at all. At the Potsdam palace it + was different. We all wrote memoirs. Eugenia of Pless did, and Cecilia + did, and I did, and all of us. We all had our memoir books with little + silver padlocks and keys. We were brought up to do it because it helped us + to realise how important everything was that we did and how important all + the people about us were. It was wonderful to realise that in the old life + one met every day great world figures like Prince Rasselwitz-Windischkopf, + the Grand Falconer of Reuss, and the Grand Duke of Schlitzin-Mein, and + Field Marshall Topoff, General-in-Chief of the army of + Schwarzburg-Rudolstadt. There are no such figures as these in America. + </p> + <p> + But another reason for not writing has been that things have been going so + badly with us. Uncle William still has no work and he seems to be getting + older and more broken and stranger in his talk every day. He is very + shabby now in spite of all I can do with my needle, but he becomes more + grandiloquent and consequential all the time. Some of the mean looking + young men at this boarding house have christened him "The Emperor"—which + seems a strange thing for them to have picked upon, and they draw him out + in his talk, and when they meet him they make mock salutes to him which + Uncle returns with very great dignity. Quite a lot of the people on the + nearby streets have taken it up and when they see Uncle come along they + make him military salutes. Uncle gets quite pleased and flushed as he goes + along the street and answers the salutes with a sort of military bow. + </p> + <p> + He is quite happy when he is out of doors explaining to me with his stick + the plans he has for rebuilding New York and turning the Hudson River to + make it run the other way. But when he comes in he falls into the most + dreadful depression and sometimes at night I hear him walking up and down + in his room far into the night. Two or three times he has had the same + dreadful kind of seizures that he had on board the ship when we came over, + and this is always when there is a great wind blowing from the ocean and a + storm raging out at sea. + </p> + <p> + Of course as Uncle has not any work or any position, we are getting poorer + and poorer. Cousin Willie has been sent to the fortress at Sing-Sing and + Cousin Ferdinand of Bulgaria refuses to know us any more, though, from + what we hear, he is getting on wonderfully well in the clothing business + and is very soon to open a big new store of which he is to be the general + manager. Cousin Karl is now the Third Assistant Head-Waiter at the King + George Hotel, and in the sphere in which he moves it is impossible for him + to acknowledge any relationship with us. I don't know what we should do + but that Uncle Henry manages to give us enough of his wages to pay for our + board and lodging. Uncle Henry has passed his Naval Examination and is now + appointed to a quite high command. It is called a Barge Master. They + refused to accept his certificate of a German Admiral, so he had to study + very hard, but at last he got his qualification and is now in charge of + long voyages on the canals. + </p> + <p> + I am very glad that Uncle Henry's command turned out to be on canals + instead of on the high seas, as it makes it so much more German. Of course + Uncle Henry had splendid experience in the Kiel Canal all through the four + years of the war, and it is bound to come in. So he goes away now on quite + long voyages, often of two or three weeks at a time, and for all this time + he is in chief charge of his barge and has to work out all the navigation. + Sometimes Uncle Henry takes bricks and sometimes sand. He says it is a + great responsibility to feel oneself answerable for the safety of a whole + barge-full of bricks or sand. It is quite different from what he did in + the German navy, because there it was only a question of the sailors and + for most of the time, as I have heard Uncle William and Uncle Henry say, + we had plenty of them, but here with bricks and sand it is different. + Uncle Henry says that if his barge was wrecked he would lose his job. This + makes it a very different thing from being a royal admiral. + </p> + <p> + But Uncle William all through the last three months has failed first at + one thing and then at another. After all his plans for selling pictures + had come to nothing he decided, very reluctantly that he would go into + business. He only reached this decision after a great deal of anxious + thought because, of course, business is a degradation. It involves taking + money for doing things and this, Uncle William says, no prince can consent + to do. But at last, after deep thought, Uncle said, "The die is cast," and + sat down and wrote a letter offering to take over the presidency of the + United States Steel Corporation. We spent two or three anxious days + waiting for the answer. Uncle was very firm and kept repeating, "I have + set my hand to it, and I will do it," but I was certain that he was sorry + about it and it was a great relief when the answer came at last—it + took days and days, evidently, for them to decide about it—in which + the corporation said that they would "worry along" as they were. Uncle + explained to me what "worrying along" meant and he said that he admired + their spirit. But that ended all talk of his going into business and I am + sure that we were both glad. + </p> + <p> + After that Uncle William decided that it was necessary for me to marry in + a way to restore our fortunes and he decided to offer me to a State + Governor. He asked me if I had any choice of States, and I said no. Of + course I should not have wished to marry a state governor, but I knew my + duty towards Uncle William and I said nothing. So Uncle got a map of the + United States and he decided to marry me to the Governor of Texas. He told + me that I could have two weeks to arrange my supply of household linen and + my trousseau to take to Texas, and he wrote at once to the Governor. He + showed me what he wrote and it was a very formal letter. I think that + Uncle's mind gets more and more confused as to where he is and what he is + and he wrote in quite the old strain and I noticed that he signed himself, + "Your brother, William." Perhaps it was on that account that we had no + answer to the letter. Uncle seemed to forget all about it very soon and I + was glad that it was so, and that I had escaped going to the court of + Texas. + </p> + <p> + All this time Mr. Peters has been very kind. He comes to the house with + his ice every day and sometimes when Uncle Henry is here he comes in with + him and smokes in the evenings. One day he brought a beautiful bunch of + chrysanthemums for Uncle William, and another day a lovely nosegay of + violets for Uncle Henry. And one Sunday he took us out for a beautiful + drive with one of his ice-horses in a carriage called a buggy, with three + seats. Uncle William sat with Mr. Peters in the front seat, and Uncle + Henry and Cousin Ferdinand (it was the last time he came to see us) sat + behind them and there was a little seat at the back in which I sat. It was + a lovely drive and Uncle William pointed out to Mr. Peters all the things + of interest, and Cousin Ferdinand smoked big cigars and told Uncle Henry + all about the clothing trade, and I listened to them all and enjoyed it + very much indeed. But I was afraid afterwards that it was a very bold and + unconventional thing to do, and perhaps Mr. Peters felt that he had asked + too much because he did not invite me to drive again. + </p> + <p> + But he is always very kind and thoughtful. + </p> + <p> + One Sunday afternoon he came to see us, thinking by mistake that Uncle + William and Uncle Henry were there, but they weren't, and his manner + seemed so strange and constrained that I was certain that there was + something that he was trying to say and it made me dreadfully nervous and + confused. And at last quite suddenly he said that there was something that + he wanted to ask me if I wouldn't think it a liberty. My breath stopped + and I couldn't speak, and then he went on to ask if he might lend us + twenty-five dollars. He got very red in the face when he said it and he + began counting out the money on the sofa, and somehow I hadn't expected + that it was money and began to cry. But I told Mr. Peters that of course + we couldn't think of taking any money, and I begged him to pick it up + again and then I began to try to tell him about how hard it was to get + along and to ask him to get work for Uncle William, but I started to cry + again. Mr. Peters came over to my chair and took hold of the arm of it and + told me not to cry. Somehow his touch on the arm of the chair thrilled all + through me and though I knew that it was wrong I let him keep it there and + even let him stroke the upholstery and I don't know just what would have + happened but at that very minute Uncle William came in. He was most + courteous to Mr. Peters and expressed his apologies for having been out + and said that it must have been extremely depressing for Mr. Peters to + find that he was not at home, and he thanked him for putting himself to + the inconvenience of waiting. And a little while after that Mr. Peters + left. + </p> + <p> + The Next Day + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peters came back this morning and said that he had got work for Uncle + William. So I was delighted. He said that Uncle will make a first class + "street man," and that he has arranged for a line of goods for him and + that he has a "territory" that Uncle can occupy. He showed me a flat + cardboard box filled with lead pencils and shoe-strings and little badges + and buttons with inscriptions on them, and he says these are what is + called a "line," and that Uncle can take out this line and do splendidly. + I don't quite understand yet who makes the appointment to be a street man + or what influence it takes or what it means to have a territory, but Mr. + Peters explained that there is a man who is retiring from being a street + man and that Uncle can take his place and can have both sides of the + Bowery, which sounds very pretty indeed. + </p> + <p> + At first I didn't understand—because Mr. Peters hesitated a good + deal in telling me about it—that if Uncle gets this appointment, it + will mean that he will sell things in the street. But as soon as I + understood this I felt that Uncle William would scorn to do anything like + this, as the degradation would be the same as being President of the Steel + Corporation. So I was much surprised to find that when Uncle came in he + didn't look at it that way at all. He looked at the box of badges and + buttons and things, and he said at once, "Ha! Orders of Distinction! An + excellent idea." He picked up a silly little white button with the motto + "Welcome to New York," and he said "Admirable! That shall be the first + class." And there was a little lead spoon with "Souvenir of the Bowery" + that he made the second class. He started arranging and rearranging all + the things in the box, just as he used to arrange the orders and + decorations at the Palace. Only those were REAL things such as the Order + of the Red Feather, and The Insignia of the Black Duck, and these were + only poor tin baubles. But I could see that Uncle no longer knows the + difference, and as his fingers fumbled among these silly things he was + quite trembling and eager to begin, like a child waiting for to-morrow. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + It is a year or nearly a year since I wrote in my memoirs, and I only add + to them now because things have happened which mean that I shall never + write any more. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peters and I were married last autumn. He asked me if I would marry + him the day that he held the arm of my chair in the boarding house where + we used to live. At first I never thought that Uncle William would permit + it, because of the hopeless difference of birth. But it turned out that + there was no difficulty at all. Uncle's mind was always so wonderful that + he could find a way out of anything provided that he wanted to. So he + conferred on Mr. Peters an Order that raised him right up in birth so that + he came level with me. Uncle said that he could have lifted him higher + still if need be but that as I was only, in our old life, of a younger + branch of the family, it was not necessary to lift Mr. Peters to the very + top. He takes precedence, Uncle said, just below Uncle Henry of Prussia + and just above an Archbishop. + </p> + <p> + It is so pleasant to think—now that poor Uncle William is gone—that + my marriage was with his full consent. + </p> + <p> + But even after Uncle William had given his formal consent, I didn't want + to get married till I could leave him safely. Only he got along so well in + his "territory" of the Bowery from the very start that he was soon quite + all right. He used to go out every morning with his trayful of badges and + pencils and shoe-strings and he was a success at once. All the people got + to know him by sight and they would say when they saw him, "Here comes the + Emperor," or "Here comes Old Dutch," and very often there would be quite a + little crowd round him buying his things. Uncle regarded himself always as + conferring a great dignity on any one that he sold a badge to, but he was + very capricious and he had certain buttons and badges that he would only + part with as a very special favour and honour. Uncle got on so fast that + presently Cousin Ferdinand decided that it would be all right to know him + again and so he came over and made a reconciliation and took away Uncle's + money,—it was all in small coins,—in a bag to invest for him. + </p> + <p> + So when everything was all right with Uncle William, Mr. Peters and I were + married and it was on our wedding morning that Uncle conferred the Order + on my husband which made me very proud. That was a year ago, and since + then we have lived in a very fine place of our own with four rooms, all to + ourselves, and a gallery at the back. I have cooked all the meals and done + all the work of our apartment, except just at the time when our little boy + was born. We both think he is a very wonderful child. At first I wanted to + call him after the Hohenzollerns and to name him William Frederick Charles + Mary Augustus Francis Felix, but somehow it seemed out of place and so we + have called him simply Joe Peters. I think it sounds better. Uncle William + drew up an act of abnegation of Joe, whereby he gives up all claim to a + reversion of the throne of Prussia, Brunswick and Waldeck. I was sorry for + this at first but Uncle said that all the Hohenzollerns had done it and + had made just as great a sacrifice as Joe has in doing it. But my husband + says that under the constitution of the United States, Joe can be + President, which I think I will like better. + </p> + <p> + It was one day last week that Uncle William met with the accident that + caused his death. He had walked far away from his "territory" up to where + the Great Park is, because in this lovely spring weather he liked to + wander about. And he came to where there was a great crowd of people + gathered to see the unveiling of a new monument. It is called the + Lusitania Monument and it is put up in memory of the people that were lost + when one of our war boats fought the English cruiser Lusitania. There were + a lot of soldiers lining the streets and regiments of cavalry riding + between. And it seems that when Uncle William saw the crowd and the + soldiers he was drawn nearer and nearer by a sort of curiosity, and when + he saw the great white veil drawn away from the monument, and read the + word "Lusitania" that is carved in large letters across the base, he + screamed out in a sudden fear, and clashed among the horses of the cavalry + and was ridden down. + </p> + <p> + They carried him to the hospital, but he never spoke again, and died on + the next day but one. My husband would not let me go to see him, as he was + not conscious and it could do no good, but after Uncle William was dead + they let me see him in his coffin. + </p> + <p> + Lying there he seemed such a pitiful and ghastly lump of clay that it + seemed strange that he could, in his old life, have vexed the world as he + did. + </p> + <p> + I had thought that when Uncle William died there would have been long + accounts of him in the papers; at least I couldn't help thinking so, by a + sort of confusion of mind, as it is hard to get used to things as they are + and to remember that our other life is unknown here and that we are known + only as ourselves. + </p> + <p> + But though I looked in all the papers I could find nothing except one + little notice, which I cut out of an evening paper and which I put in here + as a conclusion to my memoirs. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + THE "EMPEROR" DEAD + + Unique Character of the East Side Passes Away + + A unique and interesting character, a familiar figure + of the East Side of the City, has been lost from our + streets with the death of William Hohen lost Thursday + in the Pauper Hospital, to which he had been brought + as the result of injuries sustained in a street accident + at the Lusitania celebration. Hohen, who was about + sixty-five years of age, was an immigrant out of + Germany after the troubles of the Great War. He had + been for a year or more a street pedler on the Bowery, + where he sold souvenir buttons and various little + trinkets. The old man appears to have been the victim + of a harmless hallucination whereby he thought himself + a person of Royal distinction and in his fancy converted + the box of wares that he carried into Orders of Chivalry + and decorations of Knighthood. The effect of this + strange fancy was heightened by an attempt at military + bearing which, comic though it was in so old and ragged + a figure, was not without a touch of pathos. Some + fancied resemblance to the former Kaiser had earned + for Hohen the designation of the "Emperor," of which + he appeared inordinately proud. But those who knew + Hohen by sight assure us that the resemblance to the + former ruler of Germany, who with all his faults made + a splendid and imposing appearance, was of a purely + superficial character. It would, alas! have been well + for the world if the lot of William Hohenzollern had + fallen on the lines of the simple and pathetic "Emperor" + of the Bowery. +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II.—With the Bolsheviks in Berlin + </h2> + <p> + Two years ago as my readers will remember,—but of course they don't,—I + made a secret visit to Germany during the height of the war. It was + obviously quite impossible at that time to disclose the means whereby I + made my way across the frontier. I therefore adopted the familiar literary + device of professing to have been transported to Germany in a dream. In + that state I was supposed to be conducted about the country by my friend + Count Boob von Boobenstein, whom I had known years before as a waiter in + Toronto, to see GERMANY FROM WITHIN, and to report upon it in the Allied + press. + </p> + <p> + What I wrote attracted some attention. So the German Government—feeling, + perhaps, that the prestige of their own spy system was at stake—published + a white paper, —or a green paper,—I forget which,—in + denial of all my adventures and disclosures. In this they proved (1) that + all entry into Germany by dreams had been expressly forbidden of the High + General Command; (2) that astral bodies were prohibited and (3) that + nobody else but the Kaiser was allowed to have visions. They claimed + therefore (1) that my article was a fabrication and (2) that for all they + knew it was humorous. There the matter ended until it can be taken up at + the General Peace Table. + </p> + <p> + But as soon as I heard that the People's Revolution had taken place in + Berlin I determined to make a second visit. + </p> + <p> + This time I had no difficulty about the frontier whatever. I simply put on + the costume of a British admiral and walked in. + </p> + <p> + "Three Cheers for the British Navy!" said the first official whom I met. + He threw his hat in the air and the peasants standing about raised a + cheer. It was my first view of the marvellous adaptability of this great + people. I noticed that many of them were wearing little buttons with + pictures of Jellicoe and Beatty. + </p> + <p> + At my own request I was conducted at once to the nearest railway station. + </p> + <p> + "So your Excellency wishes to go to Berlin?" said the stationmaster. + </p> + <p> + "Yes," I replied, "I want to see something of the people's revolution." + </p> + <p> + The stationmaster looked at his watch. + </p> + <p> + "That Revolution is over," he said. + </p> + <p> + "Too bad!" I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + "Not at all. A much better one is in progress, quite the best Revolution + that we have had. It is called—Johann, hand me that proclamation of + yesterday—the Workmen and Soldiers Revolution." + </p> + <p> + "What's it about?" I asked. + </p> + <p> + "The basis of it," said the stationmaster, "or what we Germans call the + Fundamental Ground Foundation, is universal love. They hanged all the + leaders of the Old Revolution yesterday." + </p> + <p> + "When can I get a train?" I inquired. + </p> + <p> + "Your Excellency shall have a special train at once, Sir," he continued + with a sudden burst of feeling, while a tear swelled in his eye. "The + sight of your uniform calls forth all our gratitude. My three sons + enlisted in our German Navy. For four years they have been at Kiel, + comfortably fed, playing dominos. They are now at home all safe and happy. + Had your brave navy relaxed its vigilance for a moment those boys might + have had to go out on the sea, a thing they had never done. Please God," + concluded the good old man, removing his hat a moment, "no German sailor + now will ever have to go to sea." + </p> + <p> + I pass over my journey to Berlin. Interesting and varied as were the + scenes through which I passed they gave me but little light upon the true + situation of the country: indeed I may say without exaggeration that they + gave me as little—or even more so—as the press reports of our + talented newspaper correspondents. The food situation seemed particularly + perplexing. A well-to-do merchant from Bremen who travelled for some + distance in my train assured me that there was plenty of food in Germany, + except of course for the poor. Distress, he said, was confined entirely to + these. Similarly a Prussian gentleman who looked very like a soldier, but + who assured me with some heat that he was a commercial traveller, told me + the same thing: There were no cases of starvation, he said, except among + the very poor. + </p> + <p> + The aspect of the people too, at the stations and in the towns we passed, + puzzled me. There were no uniforms, no soldiers. But I was amazed at the + number of commercial travellers, Lutheran ministers, photographers, and so + forth, and the odd resemblance they presented, in spite of their innocent + costumes, to the arrogant and ubiquitous military officers whom I had + observed on my former visit. + </p> + <p> + But I was too anxious to reach Berlin to pay much attention to the details + of my journey. + </p> + <p> + Even when I at last reached the capital, I arrived as I had feared, too + late. + </p> + <p> + "Your Excellency," said a courteous official at the railway station, to + whom my naval uniform acted as a sufficient passport. "The Revolution of + which you speak is over. Its leaders were arrested yesterday. But you + shall not be disappointed. There is a better one. It is called the + Comrades' Revolution of the Bolsheviks. The chief Executive was installed + yesterday." + </p> + <p> + "Would it be possible for me to see him?" I asked. + </p> + <p> + "Nothing simpler, Excellency," he continued as a tear rose in his eye. "My + four sons,—" + </p> + <p> + "I know," I said; "your four sons are in the German Navy. It is enough. + Can you take me to the Leader?" + </p> + <p> + "I can and will," said the official. "He is sitting now in the Free Palace + of all the German People, once usurped by the Hohenzollern Tyrant. The + doors are guarded by machine guns. But I can take you direct from here + through a back way. Come." + </p> + <p> + We passed out from the station, across a street and through a maze of + little stairways, and passages into the heart of the great building that + had been the offices of the Imperial Government. + </p> + <p> + "Enter this room. Do not knock," said my guide. "Good bye." + </p> + <p> + In another moment I found myself face to face with the chief comrade of + the Bolsheviks. + </p> + <p> + He gave a sudden start as he looked at me, but instantly collected + himself. + </p> + <p> + He was sitting with his big boots up on the mahogany desk, a cigar at an + edgeways angle in his mouth. His hair under his sheepskin cap was shaggy, + and his beard stubbly and unshaven. His dress was slovenly and there was a + big knife in his belt. A revolver lay on the desk beside him. I had never + seen a Bolshevik before but I knew at sight that he must be one. + </p> + <p> + "You say you were here in Berlin once before?" he questioned, and he added + before I had time to answer: "When you speak don't call me 'Excellency' or + 'Sereneness' or anything of that sort; just call me 'brother' or + 'comrade.' This is the era of freedom. You're as good as I am, or nearly." + </p> + <p> + "Thank you," I said. + </p> + <p> + "Don't be so damn polite," he snarled. "No good comrade ever says 'thank + you.' So you were here in Berlin before?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes," I answered, "I was here writing up Germany from Within in the + middle of the war." + </p> + <p> + "The war, the war!" he murmured, in a sort of wail or whine. "Take notice, + comrade, that I weep when I speak of it. If you write anything about me be + sure to say that I cried when the war was mentioned. We Germans have been + so misjudged. When I think of the devastation of France and Belgium I + weep." + </p> + <p> + He drew a greasy, red handkerchief from his pocket and began to sob. "To + think of the loss of all those English merchant ships!" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, you needn't worry," I said, "it's all going to be paid for." + </p> + <p> + "Oh I hope so, I do hope so," said the Bolshevik chief. "What a regret it + is to us Germans to think that unfortunately we are not able to help pay + for it; but you English—you are so generous—how much we have + admired your noble hearts—so kind, so generous to the vanquished..." + </p> + <p> + His voice had subsided into a sort of whine. + </p> + <p> + But at this moment there was a loud knocking at the door. The Bolshevik + hastily wiped the tears from his face and put away his handkerchief. + </p> + <p> + "How do I look?" he asked anxiously. "Not humane, I hope? Not soft?" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, no," I said, "quite tough." + </p> + <p> + "That's good," he answered. "That's good. But am I tough ENOUGH?" + </p> + <p> + He hastily shoved his hands through his hair. + </p> + <p> + "Quick," he said, "hand me that piece of chewing tobacco. Now then. Come + in!" + </p> + <p> + The door swung open. + </p> + <p> + A man in a costume much like the leader's swaggered into the room. He had + a bundle of papers in his hands, and seemed to be some sort of military + secretary. + </p> + <p> + "Ha! comrade!" he said, with easy familiarity. "Here are the death + warrants!" + </p> + <p> + "Death warrants!" said the Bolshevik. "Of the leaders of the late + Revolution? Excellent! And a good bundle of them! One moment while I sign + them." + </p> + <p> + He began rapidly signing the warrants, one after the other. + </p> + <p> + "Comrade," said the secretary in a surly tone, "you are not chewing + tobacco!" + </p> + <p> + "Yes I am, yes I am," said the leader, "or, at least, I was just going + to." + </p> + <p> + He bit a huge piece out of his plug, with what seemed to me an evident + distaste, and began to chew furiously. + </p> + <p> + "It is well," said the other. "Remember comrade, that you are watched. It + was reported last night to the Executive Committee of the Circle of the + Brothers that you chewed no tobacco all day yesterday. Be warned, comrade. + This is a free and independent republic. We will stand for no aristocratic + nonsense. But whom have you here?" he added, breaking off in his speech, + as if he noticed me for the first time. "What dog is this?" + </p> + <p> + "Hush," said the leader, "he is a representative of the foreign press, a + newspaper reporter." + </p> + <p> + "Your pardon," said the secretary. "I took you by your dress for a prince. + A representative of the great and enlightened press of the Allies, I + presume. How deeply we admire in Germany the press of England! Let me kiss + you." + </p> + <p> + "Oh, don't trouble," I said, "it's not worth while." + </p> + <p> + "Say, at least, when you write to your paper, that I offered to kiss you, + will you not?" + </p> + <p> + Meantime, the leader had finished signing the papers. The secretary took + them and swung on his heels with something between a military bow and a + drunken swagger. "Remember, comrade," he said in a threatening tone as he + passed out, "you are watched." + </p> + <p> + The Bolshevik leader looked after him with something of a shudder. + </p> + <p> + "Excuse me a moment," he said, "while I go and get rid of this tobacco." + </p> + <p> + He got up from his chair and walked away towards the door of an inner + room. As he did so, there struck me something strangely familiar in his + gait and figure. Conceal it as he might, there was still the stiff wooden + movement of a Prussian general beneath his assumed swagger. The poise of + his head still seemed to suggest the pointed helmet of the Prussian. I + could without effort imagine a military cloak about his shoulders instead + of his Bolshevik sheepskin. + </p> + <p> + Then, all in a moment, as he re-entered the room, I recalled exactly who + he was. + </p> + <p> + "My friend," I said, reaching out my hand, "pardon me for not knowing you + at once. I recognize you now..." + </p> + <p> + "Hush," said the Bolshevik. "Don't speak! I never saw you in my life." + </p> + <p> + "Nonsense," I said, "I knew you years ago in Canada when you were + disguised as a waiter. And you it was who conducted me through Germany two + years ago when I made my war visit. You are no more a Bolshevik than I am. + You are General Count Boob von Boobenstein." + </p> + <p> + The general sank down in his chair, his face pale beneath its plaster of + rouge. + </p> + <p> + "Hush!" he said. "If they learn it, it is death." + </p> + <p> + "My dear Boob," I said, "not a word shall pass my lips." + </p> + <p> + The general grasped my hand. "The true spirit," he said, "the true English + comradeship; how deeply we admire it in Germany!" + </p> + <p> + "I am sure you do," I answered. "But tell me, what is the meaning of all + this? Why are you a Bolshevik?" + </p> + <p> + "We all are," said the count, dropping his assumed rough voice, and + speaking in a tone of quiet melancholy. "It's the only thing to be. But + come," he added, getting up from his chair, "I took you once through + Berlin in war time. Let me take you out again and show you Berlin under + the Bolsheviks." + </p> + <p> + "I shall be only too happy," I said. + </p> + <p> + "I shall leave my pistols and knives here," said Boobenstein, "and if you + will excuse me I shall change my costume a little. To appear as I am would + excite too much enthusiasm. I shall walk out with you in the simple + costume of a gentleman. It's a risky thing to do in Berlin, but I'll + chance it." + </p> + <p> + The count retired, and presently returned dressed in the quiet bell-shaped + purple coat, the simple scarlet tie, the pea-green hat and the white spats + that mark the German gentleman all the world over. + </p> + <p> + "Bless me, Count," I said, "you look just like Bernstorff." + </p> + <p> + "Hush," said the count. "Don't mention him. He's here in Berlin." + </p> + <p> + "What's he doing?" I asked. + </p> + <p> + "He's a Bolshevik; one of our leaders; he's just been elected president of + the Scavengers Union. They say he's the very man for it. But come along, + and, by the way, when we get into the street talk English and only + English. There's getting to be a prejudice here against German." + </p> + <p> + We passed out of the door and through the spacious corridors and down the + stairways of the great building. All about were little groups of ferocious + looking men, dressed like stage Russians, all chewing tobacco and redolent + of alcohol. + </p> + <p> + "Who are all these people?" I said to the count in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + "Bolsheviks," he whispered. "At least they aren't really. You see that + group in the corner? + </p> + <p> + "The ones with the long knives," I said. + </p> + <p> + "Yes. They are, or at least they were, the orchestra of the Berlin Opera. + They are now the Bolshevik Music Commission. They are here this morning to + see about getting their second violinist hanged." + </p> + <p> + "Why not the first?" I asked. + </p> + <p> + "They had him hanged yesterday. Both cases are quite clear. The men + undoubtedly favoured the war: one, at least, of them openly spoke in + disparagement of President Wilson. But come along. Let me show you our new + city." + </p> + <p> + We stepped out upon the great square which faced the building. How + completely it was changed from the Berlin that I had known! My attention + was at once arrested by the new and glaring signboards at the shops and + hotels, and the streamers with mottos suspended across the streets. I + realised as I read them the marvellous adaptability of the German people + and their magnanimity towards their enemies. Conspicuous in huge lettering + was HOTEL PRESIDENT WILSON, and close beside it CABARET QUEEN MARY: + ENGLISH DANCING. The square itself, which I remembered as the Kaiserplatz, + was now renamed on huge signboards GRAND SQUARE OF THE BRITISH NAVY. Not + far off one noticed the RESTAURANT MARSHAL FOCH, side by side with the + ROOSEVELT SALOON and the BEER GARDEN GEORGE V. + </p> + <p> + But the change in the appearance and costume of the men who crowded the + streets was even more notable. The uniforms and the pointed helmets of two + years ago had vanished utterly. The men that one saw retained indeed their + German stoutness, their flabby faces, and their big spectacles. But they + were now dressed for the most part in the costume of the Russian Monjik, + while some of them appeared in American wideawakes and Kentucky frock + coats, or in English stove-pipe hats and morning coats. A few of the + stouter were in Highland costume. + </p> + <p> + "You are amazed," said Boobenstein as we stood a moment looking at the + motley crowd. "What does it mean?" I asked. + </p> + <p> + "One moment," said the count. "I will first summon a taxi. It will be more + convenient to talk as we ride." + </p> + <p> + He whistled and there presently came lumbering to our side an ancient and + decrepit vehicle which would have excited my laughter but for the + seriousness of the count's face. The top of the conveyance had evidently + long since been torn off leaving, only the frame: the copper fastenings + had been removed: the tires were gone: the doors were altogether missing. + </p> + <p> + "Our new 1919 model," said the count. "Observe the absence of the + old-fashioned rubber tires, still used by the less progressive peoples. + Our chemists found that riding on rubber was bad for the eye-sight. Note, + too, the time saved by not having any doors." + </p> + <p> + "Admirable," I said. + </p> + <p> + We seated ourselves in the crazy conveyance, the count whispered to the + chauffeur an address which my ear failed to catch and we started off at a + lumbering pace along the street. + </p> + <p> + "And now tell me, Boobenstein," I said, "what does it all mean, the + foreign signs and the strange costumes?" + </p> + <p> + "My dear sir" he replied, "it is merely a further proof of our German + adaptability. Having failed to conquer the world by war we now propose to + conquer it by the arts of peace: Those people, for example, that you see + in Scotch costumes are members of our Highland Mission about to start for + Scotland to carry to the Scotch the good news that the war is a thing of + the past, that the German people forgive all wrongs and are prepared to + offer a line of manufactured goods as per catalogue sample." + </p> + <p> + "Wonderful," I said. + </p> + <p> + "Is it not?" said Von Boobenstein. "We call it the From Germany Out + movement. It is being organised in great detail by our Step from Under + Committee. They claim that already four million German voters are pledged + to forget the war and to forgive the Allies. All that we now ask is to be + able to put our hands upon the villains who made this war, no matter how + humble their station may be, and execute them after a fair trial or + possibly before." + </p> + <p> + The count spoke with great sincerity and earnestness. "But come along," he + added. "I want to drive you about the city and show you a few of the + leading features of our new national reconstruction. We can talk as we + go." + </p> + <p> + "But Von Boobenstein," I said, "you speak of the people who made the war; + surely you were all in favour of it?" + </p> + <p> + "In favour of it! We were all against it." + </p> + <p> + "But the Kaiser," I protested. + </p> + <p> + "The Kaiser, my poor master! How he worked to prevent the war! Day and + night; even before anybody else had heard of it. 'Boob,' he said to me one + day with tears in his eyes, 'this war must be stopped.' 'Which war, your + Serenity,' I asked. 'The war that is coming next month,' he answered, 'I + look to you, Count Boobenstein,' he continued, 'to bear witness that I am + doing my utmost to stop it a month before the English Government has heard + of it.'" + </p> + <p> + While we were thus speaking our taxi had taken us out of the roar and + hubbub of the main thoroughfare into the quiet of a side street. It now + drew up at the door of an unpretentious dwelling in the window of which I + observed a large printed card with the legend + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + REVEREND MR. TIBBITS + Private Tuition, English, Navigation, + and other Branches +</pre> + <p> + We entered and were shown by a servant into a little front room where a + venerable looking gentleman, evidently a Lutheran minister, was seated in + a corner at a writing table. He turned on our entering and at the sight of + the uniform which I wore jumped to his feet with a vigorous and unexpected + oath. + </p> + <p> + "It is all right, Admiral," said Count Von Boobenstein. "My friend is not + really a sailor." + </p> + <p> + "Ah!" said the other. "You must excuse me. The sight of that uniform + always gives me the jumps." + </p> + <p> + He came forward to shake hands and as the light fell upon him I recognized + the grand old seaman, perhaps the greatest sailor that Germany has ever + produced or ever will, Admiral Von Tirpitz. + </p> + <p> + "My dear Admiral!" I said, warmly. "I thought you were out of the country. + Our papers said that you had gone to Switzerland for a rest." + </p> + <p> + "No," said the Admiral. "I regret to say that I find it impossible to get + away." + </p> + <p> + "Your Allied press," interjected the count, "has greatly maligned our + German patriots by reporting that they have left the country. Where better + could they trust themselves than in the bosom of their own people? You + noticed the cabman of our taxi? He was the former chancellor Von Hertling. + You saw that stout woman with the apple cart at the street corner? Frau + Bertha Krupp Von Bohlen. All are here, helping to make the new Germany. + But come, Admiral, our visitor here is much interested in our plans for + the restoration of the Fatherland. I thought that you might care to show + him your designs for the new German Navy." + </p> + <p> + "A new navy!" I exclaimed, while my voice showed the astonishment and + admiration that I felt. Here was this gallant old seaman, having just lost + an entire navy, setting vigorously to work to make another. "But how can + Germany possibly find the money in her present state for the building of + new ships?" + </p> + <p> + "There are not going to be any ships," said the great admiral. "That was + our chief mistake in the past in insisting on having ships in the navy. + Ships, as the war has shown us, are quite unnecessary to the German plan; + they are not part of what I may call the German idea. The new navy will be + built inland and elevated on piles and will consist—" + </p> + <p> + But at this moment a great noise of shouting and sudden tumult could be + heard as if from the street. + </p> + <p> + "Some one is coming," said the admiral hastily. "Reach me my Bible." + </p> + <p> + "No, no," said the count, seizing me by the arm. "The sound comes from the + Great Square. There is trouble. We must hasten back at once." + </p> + <p> + He dragged me from the house. + </p> + <p> + We perceived at once, as soon as we came into the main street again, from + the excited demeanour of the crowd and from the anxious faces of people + running to and fro that something of great moment must be happening. + </p> + <p> + Everybody was asking of the passer-by, "What is loose? What is it?" + Ramshack taxis, similar to the one in which we had driven, forced their + way as best they could through the crowded thoroughfare, moving evidently + in the direction of the government buildings. + </p> + <p> + "Hurry, hurry!" said Von Boobenstein, clutching me by the arm, "or we + shall be too late. It is as I feared." + </p> + <p> + "What is it?" I said; "what's the matter?" + </p> + <p> + "Fool that I was," said the count, "to leave the building. I should have + known. And in this costume I am helpless." + </p> + <p> + We made our way as best we could through the crowd of people, who all + seemed moving in the same direction, the count, evidently a prey to the + gravest anxiety, talking as if to himself and imprecating his own + carelessness. + </p> + <p> + We turned the corner of a street and reached the edge of the great square. + It was filled with a vast concourse of people. At the very moment in which + we reached it a great burst of cheering rose from the crowd. We could see + over the heads of the people that a man had appeared on the balcony of the + Government Building, holding a paper in his hand. His appearance was + evidently a signal for the outburst of cheers, accompanied by the waving + of handkerchiefs. The man raised his hand in a gesture of authority. + German training is deep. Silence fell instantly upon the assembled + populace. We had time in the momentary pause to examine, as closely as the + distance permitted, the figure upon the balcony. The man was dressed in + the blue overall suit of a workingman. He was bare-headed. His features, + so far as we could tell, were those of a man well up in years, but his + frame was rugged and powerful. Then he began to speak. + </p> + <p> + "Friends and comrades!" he called out in a great voice that resounded + through the square. "I have to announce that a New Revolution has been + completed." + </p> + <p> + A wild cheer woke from the people. + </p> + <p> + "The Bolsheviks' Republic is overthrown. The Bolsheviks are aristocrats. + Let them die." + </p> + <p> + "Thank Heaven for this costume!" I heard Count Boobenstein murmur at my + side. Then he seized his pea-green hat and waved it in the air, shouting: + "Down with the Bolsheviks!" + </p> + <p> + All about us the cry was taken up. + </p> + <p> + One saw everywhere in the crowd men pulling off their sheepskin coats and + tramping them under foot with the shout, "Down with Bolshevism!" To my + surprise I observed that most of the men had on blue overalls beneath + their Russian costumes. In a few moments the crowd seemed transformed into + a vast mass of mechanics. + </p> + <p> + The speaker raised his hand again. "We have not yet decided what the new + Government will be"— + </p> + <p> + A great cheer from the people. + </p> + <p> + "Nor do we propose to state who will be the leaders of it." + </p> + <p> + Renewed cheers. + </p> + <p> + "But this much we can say. It is to be a free, universal, Pan-German + Government of love." + </p> + <p> + Cheers. + </p> + <p> + "Meantime, be warned. Whoever speaks against it will be shot: anybody who + dares to lift a finger will be hanged. A proclamation of Brotherhood will + be posted all over the city. If anybody dares to touch it, or to discuss + it, or to look at or to be seen reading it, he will be hanged to a lamp + post." + </p> + <p> + Loud applause greeted this part of the speech while the faces of the + people, to my great astonishment, seemed filled with genuine relief and + beamed with unmistakable enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + "And now," continued the speaker, "I command you, you dogs, to disperse + quietly and go home. Move quickly, swine that you are, or we shall open + fire upon you with machine guns." + </p> + <p> + With a last outburst of cheering the crowd broke and dispersed, like a + vast theatre audience. On all sides were expressions of joy and + satisfaction. "Excellent, wunderschoen!" "He calls us dogs! That's + splendid. Swine! Did you hear him say 'Swine'? This is true German + Government again at last." + </p> + <p> + Then just for a moment the burly figure reappeared on the balcony. + </p> + <p> + "A last word!" he called to the departing crowd. "I omitted to say that + all but one of the leaders of the late government are already caught. As + soon as we can lay our thumb on the Chief Executive rest assured that he + will be hanged." + </p> + <p> + "Hurrah!" shouted Boobenstein, waving his hat in the air. Then in a + whisper to me: "Let us go," he said, "while the going is still good." + </p> + <p> + We hastened as quickly and unobtrusively as we could through the + dispersing multitude, turned into a side street, and on a sign from the + count entered a small cabaret or drinking shop, newly named, as its sign + showed, THE GLORY OF THE BRITISH COLONIES CAFE. + </p> + <p> + The count with a deep sigh of relief ordered wine. + </p> + <p> + "You recognized him, of course?" he said. + </p> + <p> + "Who?" I asked. "You mean the big working-man that spoke? Who is he?" + </p> + <p> + "So you didn't recognize him?" said the count. "Well, well, but of course + all the rest did. Workingman! It is Field Marshal Hindenburg. It means of + course that the same old crowd are back again. That was Ludendorf standing + below. I saw it all at once. Perhaps it is the only way. But as for me I + shall not go back: I am too deeply compromised: it would be death." + </p> + <p> + Boobenstein remained for a time in deep thought, his fingers beating a + tattoo on the little table. Then he spoke. + </p> + <p> + "Do you remember," he said, "the old times of long ago when you first knew + me?" + </p> + <p> + "Very well, indeed," I answered. "You were one of the German waiters, or + rather, one of the German officers disguised as waiters at McConkey's + Restaurant in Toronto." + </p> + <p> + "I was," said the count. "I carried the beer on a little tray and opened + oysters behind a screen. It was a wunderschoen life. Do you think, my good + friend, you could get me that job again?" + </p> + <p> + "Boobenstein," I exclaimed, "I can get you reinstated at once. It will be + some small return for your kindness to me in Germany." + </p> + <p> + "Good," said the count. "Let us sail at once for Canada." + </p> + <p> + "One thing, however," I said. "You may not know that since you left there + are no longer beer waiters in Toronto because there is no beer. All is + forbidden." + </p> + <p> + "Let me understand myself," said the count in astonishment. "No beer!" + </p> + <p> + "None whatever." + </p> + <p> + "Wine, then?" + </p> + <p> + "Absolutely not. All drinking, except of water, is forbidden." + </p> + <p> + The count rose and stood erect. His figure seemed to regain all its + old-time Prussian rigidity. He extended his hand. + </p> + <p> + "My friend," he said. "I bid you farewell." + </p> + <p> + "Where are you going to?" I asked. + </p> + <p> + "My choice is made," said Von Boobenstein. "There are worse things than + death. I am about to surrender myself to the German authorities." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III.—Afternoon Tea with the Sultan + </h2> + <h3> + A Study of Reconstruction in Turkey + </h3> + <p> + On the very day following the events related in the last chapter, I was + surprised and delighted to receive a telegram which read "Come on to + Constantinople and write US up too." From the signature I saw that the + message was from my old friend Abdul Aziz the Sultan. + </p> + <p> + I had visited him—as of course my readers will instantly recollect—during + the height of the war, and the circumstances of my departure had been such + that I should have scarcely ventured to repeat my visit without this + express invitation. But on receipt of it, I set out at once by rail for + Constantinople. + </p> + <p> + I was delighted to find that under the new order of things in going from + Berlin to Constantinople it was no longer necessary to travel through the + barbarous and brutal populations of Germany, Austria and Hungary. The way + now runs, though I believe the actual railroad is the same, through the + Thuringian Republic, Czecho-Slovakia and Magyaria. It was a source of deep + satisfaction to see the scowling and hostile countenances of Germans, + Austrians and Hungarians replaced by the cheerful and honest faces of the + Thuringians, the Czecho-Slovaks and the Magyarians. Moreover I was assured + on all sides that if these faces are not perfectly satisfactory, they will + be altered in any way required. + </p> + <p> + It was very pleasant, too, to find myself once again in the flagstoned + halls of the Yildiz Kiosk, the Sultan's palace. My little friend Abdul + Aziz rose at once from his cushioned divan under a lemon tree and came + shuffling in his big slippers to meet me, a smile of welcome on his face. + He seemed, to my surprise, radiant with happiness. The disasters + attributed by the allied press to his unhappy country appeared to sit + lightly on the little man. + </p> + <p> + "How is everything going in Turkey?" I asked as we sat down side by side + on the cushions. + </p> + <p> + "Splendid," said Abdul. "I suppose you've heard that we're bankrupt?" + </p> + <p> + "Bankrupt!" I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + "Yes," continued the Sultan, rubbing his hands together with positive + enjoyment, "we can't pay a cent: isn't it great? Have some champagne?" + </p> + <p> + He clapped his hands together and a turbaned attendant appeared with wine + on a tray which he served into long-necked glasses. + </p> + <p> + "I'd rather have tea," I said. + </p> + <p> + "No, no, don't take tea," he protested. "We've practically cut out + afternoon tea here. It's part of our Turkish thrift movement. We're taking + champagne instead. Tell me, have you a Thrift Movement like that, where + you come from—Canada, I think it is, isn't it?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes," I answered, "we have one just like that." + </p> + <p> + "This war finance is glorious stuff, isn't it?" continued the Sultan. "How + much do you think we owe?" + </p> + <p> + "I haven't an idea," I said. + </p> + <p> + "Wait a minute," said Abdul. He touched a bell and at the sound of it + there came shuffling into the room my venerable old acquaintance Toomuch + Koffi, the Royal Secretary. But to my surprise he no longer wore his + patriarchal beard, his flowing robe and his girdle. He was clean shaven + and close cropped and dressed in a short jacket like an American bell boy. + </p> + <p> + "You remember Toomuch, I think," said Abdul. "I've reconstructed him a + little, as you see." + </p> + <p> + "The Peace of Allah be upon thine head," said Toomuch Koffi to the Sultan, + commencing a deep salaam. "What wish sits behind thy forehead that thou + shouldst ring the bell for this humble creature of clay to come into the + sunlight of thy presence? Tell me, O Lord, if perchance—" + </p> + <p> + "Here, here," interrupted the Sultan impatiently, "cut all that stuff out, + please. That ancient courtesy business won't do, not if this country is to + reconstruct itself and come abreast of the great modern democracies. Say + to me simply 'What's the trouble?"' + </p> + <p> + Toomuch bowed, and Abdul continued. "Look in your tablets and see how much + our public debt amounts to in American dollars." + </p> + <p> + The secretary drew forth his tablets and bowed his head a moment in some + perplexity over the figures that were scribbled on them. "Multiplication," + I heard him murmur, "is an act of the grace of heaven; let me invoke a + blessing on FIVE, the perfect number, whereby the Pound Turkish is + distributed into the American dollar." + </p> + <p> + He remained for a few moments with his eyes turned, as if in supplication, + towards the vaulted ceiling. + </p> + <p> + "Have you got it?" asked Abdul. + </p> + <p> + "Yes." + </p> + <p> + "And what do we owe, adding it all together?" + </p> + <p> + "Forty billion dollars," said Toomuch. + </p> + <p> + "Isn't that wonderful!" exclaimed Abdul, with delight radiating over his + countenance. "Who would have thought that before the war! Forty billion + dollars! Aren't we the financiers! Aren't we the bulwark of monetary + power! Can you touch that in Canada?" + </p> + <p> + "No," I said, "we can't. We don't owe two billion yet." + </p> + <p> + "Oh, never mind, never mind," said the little man in a consoling tone. + "You are only a young country yet. You'll do better later on. And in any + case I am sure you are just as proud of your one billion as we are of our + forty." + </p> + <p> + "Oh, yes," I said, "we certainly are." + </p> + <p> + "Come, come, that's something anyway. You're on the right track, and you + must not be discouraged if you're not up to the Turkish standard yet. You + must remember, as I told you before, that Turkey leads the world in all + ideas of government and finance. Take the present situation. Here we are, + bankrupt—pass me the champagne, Toomuch, and sit down with us—the + very first nation of the lot. It's a great feather in the cap of our + financiers. It gives us a splendid start for the new era of reconstruction + that we are beginning on. As you perhaps have heard we are all hugely busy + about it. You notice my books and papers, do you not?" the Sultan added + very proudly, waving his hand towards a great pile of blue books, + pamphlets and documents that were heaped upon the floor beside him. + </p> + <p> + "Why! I never knew before that you ever read anything!" I exclaimed in + amazement. + </p> + <p> + "Never did. But everything's changed now, isn't it, Toomuch? I sit and + work here for hours every morning. It's become a delight to me. After + all," said Abdul, lighting a big cigar and sticking up his feet on his + pile of papers with an air of the deepest comfort, "what is there like + work? So stimulating, so satisfying. I sit here working away, just like + this, most of the day. There's nothing like it." + </p> + <p> + "What are you working at?" I asked. + </p> + <p> + "Reconstruction," said the little man, puffing a big cloud from his cigar, + "reconstruction." + </p> + <p> + "What kind of reconstruction?" + </p> + <p> + "All kinds—financial, industrial, political, social. It's great + stuff. By the way," he continued with great animation, "would you like to + be my Minister of Labour? No? Well, I'm sorry. I half hoped you would. + We're having no luck with them. The last one was thrown into the + Bosphorous on Monday. Here's the report on it—no, that's the one on + the shooting of the Minister of Religion—ah! here it is—Report + on the Drowning of the Minister of Labour. Let me read you a bit of this: + I call this one of the best reports, of its kind, that have come in." + </p> + <p> + "No, no," I said, "don't bother to read it. Just tell me who did it and + why." + </p> + <p> + "Workingmen," said the Sultan, very cheerfully, "a delegation. They + withheld their reasons." + </p> + <p> + "So you are having labour troubles here too?" I asked. + </p> + <p> + "Labour troubles!" exclaimed the little Sultan rolling up his eyes. "I + should say so. The whole of Turkey is bubbling with labour unrest like the + rosewater in a narghile. Look at your tablets, Toomuch, and tell me what + new strikes there have been this morning." + </p> + <p> + The aged Secretary fumbled with his notes and began to murmur—"Truly + will I try with the aid of Allah—" + </p> + <p> + "Now, now," said Abdul, warningly, "that won't do. Say simply 'Sure.' Now + tell me." + </p> + <p> + The Secretary looked at a little list and read: "The strikes of to-day + comprise—the wig-makers, the dog fanciers, the conjurers, the snake + charmers, and the soothsayers." + </p> + <p> + "You hear that," said Abdul proudly. "That represents some of the most + skilled labour in Turkey." + </p> + <p> + "I suppose it does," I said, "but tell me Abdul—what about the + really necessary trades, the coal miners, the steel workers, the textile + operatives, the farmers, and the railway people. Are they working?" + </p> + <p> + The little Sultan threw himself back on his cushions in a paroxysm of + laughter, in which even his ancient Secretary was feign to join. + </p> + <p> + "My dear sir, my dear sir!" he laughed, "don't make me die of laughter. + Working! those people working! Surely you don't think we are so behind + hand in Turkey as all that! All those worker's stopped absolutely months + ago. It is doubtful if they'll ever work again. There's a strong movement + in Turkey to abolish all NECESSARY work altogether." + </p> + <p> + "But who then," I asked, "is working?" + </p> + <p> + "Look on the tablets, Toomuch, and see." + </p> + <p> + The aged Secretary bowed, turned over the leaves of his "tablets," which I + now perceived on a closer view to be merely an American ten cent + memorandum book. Then he read: + </p> + <p> + "The following, O all highest, still work—the beggars, the poets, + the missionaries, the Salvation Army, and the instructors of the Youths of + Light in the American Presbyterian College." + </p> + <p> + "But, dear me, Abdul," I exclaimed, "surely this situation is desperate? + What can your nation subsist on in such a situation?" + </p> + <p> + "Pooh, pooh," said the Sultan. "The interest on our debt alone is two + billion a year. Everybody in Turkey, great or small, holds bonds to some + extent. At the worst they can all live fairly well on the interest. This + is finance, is it not, Toomuch Koffi?" + </p> + <p> + "The very best and latest," said the aged man with a profound salaam. + </p> + <p> + "But what steps are you taking," I asked, "to remedy your labour + troubles?" + </p> + <p> + "We are appointing commissions," said Abdul. "We appoint one for each new + labour problem. How many yesterday, Toomuch?" + </p> + <p> + "Forty-three," answered the secretary. + </p> + <p> + "That's below our average, is it not?" said Abdul a little anxiously. "Try + to keep it up to fifty if you can." + </p> + <p> + "And these commissions, what do they do?" + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +"They make Reports," said Abdul, beginning to yawn as if +the continued brain exercise of conversation were fatiguing +his intellect, "excellent reports. We have had some that +are said to be perfect models of the very best Turkish." + "And what do they recommend?" +</pre> + <p> + "I don't know," said the Sultan. "We don't read them for that. We like to + read them simply as Turkish." + </p> + <p> + "But what," I urged, "do you do with them? What steps do you take?" + </p> + <p> + "We send them all," replied the little man, puffing at his pipe and + growing obviously drowsy as he spoke, "to Woodrow Wilson. He can deal with + them. He is the great conciliator of the world. Let him have—how do + you say it in English, it is a Turkish phrase—let him have his + stomach full of conciliation." + </p> + <p> + Abdul dozed on his cushions for a moment. Then he reopened his eyes. "Is + there anything else you want to know," he asked, "before I retire to the + Inner Harem?" + </p> + <p> + "Just one thing," I said, "if you don't mind. How do you stand + internationally? Are you coming into the New League of Nations?" + </p> + <p> + The Sultan shook his head. + </p> + <p> + "No," he said, "we're not coming in. We are starting a new league of our + own." + </p> + <p> + "And who are in it?" + </p> + <p> + "Ourselves, and the Armenians—and let me see—the Irish, are + they not, Toomuch—and the Bulgarians—are there any others, + Toomuch?" + </p> + <p> + "There is talk," said the Secretary "of the Yugo-Hebrovians and the + Scaroovians—" + </p> + <p> + "Who are they?" I asked. + </p> + <p> + "We don't know," said Abdul, testily. "They wrote to us. They seem all + right. Haven't you got a lot of people in your league that you never heard + of?" + </p> + <p> + "I see," I said, "and what is the scheme that your league is formed on?" + </p> + <p> + "Very simple," said the Sultan. "Each member of the league gives its WORD + to all the other members. Then they all take an OATH together. Then they + all sign it. That is absolutely binding." + </p> + <p> + He rolled back on his cushions in an evident state of boredom and + weariness. + </p> + <p> + "But surely," I protested, "you don't think that a league of that sort can + keep the peace?" + </p> + <p> + "Peace!" exclaimed Abdul waking into sudden astonishment. "Peace! I should + think NOT! Our league is for WAR. Every member gives its word that at the + first convenient opportunity it will knock the stuff out of any of the + others that it can." + </p> + <p> + The little Sultan again subsided. Then he rose, with some difficulty, from + his cushions. + </p> + <p> + "Toomuch," he said, "take our inquisitive friend out into the town; take + him to the Bosphorous; take him to the island where the dogs are; take him + anywhere." He paused to whisper a few instructions into the ear of the + Secretary. "You understand," he said, "well, take him. As for me,"—he + gave a great yawn as he shuffled away, "I am about to withdraw into my + Inner Harem. Goodbye. I regret that I cannot invite you in." + </p> + <p> + "So do I," I said. "Goodbye." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV.—Echoes of the War + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + 1.—The Boy Who Came Back + </h2> + <p> + The war is over. The soldiers are coming home. On all sides we are assured + that the problem of the returned soldier is the gravest of our national + concerns. + </p> + <p> + So I may say it without fear of contradiction,—since everybody else + has seen it,—that, up to the present time, the returned soldier is a + disappointment. He is not turning out as he ought. According to all the + professors of psychology he was to come back bloodthirsty and brutalised, + soaked in militarism and talking only of slaughter. In fact, a widespread + movement had sprung up, warmly supported by the business men of the + cities, to put him on the land. It was thought that central Nevada or + northern Idaho would do nicely for him. At the same time an agitation had + been started among the farmers, with the slogan "Back to the city," the + idea being that farm life was so rough that it was not fair to ask the + returned soldier to share it. + </p> + <p> + All these anticipations turn out to be quite groundless. + </p> + <p> + The first returned soldier of whom I had direct knowledge was my nephew + Tom. When he came back, after two years in the trenches, we asked him to + dine with us. "Now, remember," I said to my wife, "Tom will be a very + different being from what he was when he went away. He left us as little + more than a school boy, only in his first year at college; in fact, a mere + child. You remember how he used to bore us with baseball talk and that + sort of thing. And how shy he was! You recall his awful fear of Professor + Razzler, who used to teach him mathematics. All that, of course, will be + changed now. Tom will have come back a man. We must ask the old professor + to meet him. It will amuse Tom to see him again. Just think of the things + he must have seen! But we must be a little careful at dinner not to let + him horrify the other people with brutal details of the war." + </p> + <p> + Tom came. I had expected him to arrive in uniform with his pocket full of + bombs. Instead of this he wore ordinary evening dress with a dinner + jacket. I realised as I helped him to take off his overcoat in the hall + that he was very proud of his dinner jacket. He had never had one before. + He said he wished the "boys" could see him in it. I asked him why he had + put off his lieutenant's uniform so quickly. He explained that he was + entitled not to wear it as soon as he had his discharge papers signed; + some of the fellows, he said, kicked them off as soon as they left the + ship, but the rule was, he told me, that you had to wear the thing till + your papers were signed. + </p> + <p> + Then his eye caught a glimpse sideways of Professor Razzler standing on + the hearth rug in the drawing room. "Say," he said, "is that the + professor?" I could see that Tom was scared. All the signs of physical + fear were written on his face. When I tried to lead him into the drawing + room I realised that he was as shy as ever. Three of the women began + talking to him all at once. Tom answered, yes or no,—with his eyes + down. I liked the way he stood, though, so unconsciously erect and steady. + The other men who came in afterwards, with easy greetings and noisy talk, + somehow seemed loud-voiced and self-assertive. + </p> + <p> + Tom, to my surprise, refused a cocktail. It seems, as he explained, that + he "got into the way of taking nothing over there." I noticed that my + friend Quiller, who is a war correspondent, or, I should say, a war + editorial writer, took three cocktails and talked all the more brilliantly + for it through the opening courses of the dinner, about the story of the + smashing of the Hindenburg line. He decided, after his second Burgundy, + that it had been simply a case of sticking it out. I say "Burgundy" + because we had substituted Burgundy, the sparkling kind, for champagne at + our dinners as one of our little war economies. + </p> + <p> + Tom had nothing to say about the Hindenburg line. In fact, for the first + half of the dinner he hardly spoke. I think he was worried about his left + hand. There is a deep furrow across the back of it where a piece of + shrapnel went through and there are two fingers that will hardly move at + all. I could see that he was ashamed of its clumsiness and afraid that + someone might notice it. So he kept silent. Professor Razzler did indeed + ask him straight across the table what he thought about the final breaking + of the Hindenburg line. But he asked it with that same fierce look from + under his bushy eyebrows with which he used to ask Tom to define the path + of a tangent, and Tom was rattled at once. He answered something about + being afraid that he was not well posted, owing to there being so little + chance over there to read the papers. + </p> + <p> + After that Professor Razzler and Mr. Quiller discussed for us, most + energetically, the strategy of the Lorraine sector (Tom served there six + months, but he never said so) and high explosives and the possibilities of + aerial bombs. (Tom was "buried" by an aerial bomb but, of course, he + didn't break in and mention it.) + </p> + <p> + But we did get him talking of the war at last, towards the end of the + dinner; or rather, the girl sitting next to him did, and presently the + rest of us found ourselves listening. The strange thing was that the girl + was a mere slip of a thing, hardly as old as Tom himself. In fact, my wife + was almost afraid she might be too young to ask to dinner: girls of that + age, my wife tells me, have hardly sense enough to talk to men, and fail + to interest them. This is a proposition which I think it better not to + dispute. + </p> + <p> + But at any rate we presently realized that Tom was talking about his war + experiences and the other talk about the table was gradually hushed into + listening. + </p> + <p> + This, as nearly as I can set it down, is what he told us: That the French + fellows picked up baseball in a way that is absolutely amazing; they were + not much good, it seems, at the bat, at any rate not at first, but at + running bases they were perfect marvels; some of the French made good + pitchers, too; Tom knew a poilu who had lost his right arm who could pitch + as good a ball with his left as any man on the American side; at the port + where Tom first landed and where they trained for a month they had a dandy + ball ground, a regular peach, a former parade ground of the French + barracks. On being asked WHICH port it was, Tom said he couldn't remember; + he thought it was either Boulogne or Bordeaux or Brest,—at any rate, + it was one of those places on the English channel. The ball ground they + had behind the trenches was not so good; it was too much cut up by long + range shells. But the ball ground at the base hospital (where Tom was sent + for his second wound) was an A1 ground. The French doctors, it appears, + were perfectly rotten at baseball, not a bit like the soldiers. Tom + wonders that they kept them. Tom says that baseball had been tried among + the German prisoners, but they are perfect dubs. He doubts whether the + Germans will ever be able to play ball. They lack the national spirit. On + the other hand, Tom thinks that the English will play a great game when + they really get into it. He had two weeks' leave in London and went to see + the game that King George was at, and says that the King, if they will let + him, will make the greatest rooter of the whole bunch. + </p> + <p> + Such was Tom's war talk. + </p> + <p> + It grieved me to note that as the men sat smoking their cigars and + drinking liqueur whiskey (we have cut out port at our house till the final + peace is signed) Tom seemed to have subsided into being only a boy again, + a first-year college boy among his seniors. They spoke to him in quite a + patronising way, and even asked him two or three direct questions about + fighting in the trenches, and wounds and the dead men in No Man's Land and + the other horrors that the civilian mind hankers to hear about. Perhaps + they thought, from the boy's talk, that he had seen nothing. If so, they + were mistaken. For about three minutes, not more, Tom gave them what was + coming to them. He told them, for example, why he trained his "fellows" to + drive the bayonet through the stomach and not through the head, that the + bayonet driven through the face or skull sticks and,—but there is no + need to recite it here. Any of the boys like Tom can tell it all to you, + only they don't want to and don't care to. + </p> + <p> + They've got past it. + </p> + <p> + But I noticed that as the boy talked,—quietly and reluctantly + enough,—the older men fell silent and looked into his face with the + realisation that behind his simple talk and quiet manner lay an inward + vision of grim and awful realities that no words could picture. + </p> + <p> + I think that they were glad when we joined the ladies again and when Tom + talked of the amateur vaudeville show that his company had got up behind + the trenches. + </p> + <p> + Later on, when the other guests were telephoning for their motors and + calling up taxis, Tom said he'd walk to his hotel; it was only a mile and + the light rain that was falling would do him, he said, no harm at all. So + he trudged off, refusing a lift. + </p> + <p> + Oh, no, I don't think we need to worry about the returned soldier. Only + let him return, that's all. When he does, he's a better man than we are, + Gunga Dinn. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + 2.—The War Sacrifices of Mr. Spugg + </h2> + <p> + Although we had been members of the same club for years, I only knew Mr. + Spugg by sight until one afternoon when I heard him saying that he + intended to send his chauffeur to the war. + </p> + <p> + It was said quite quietly,—no bombast or boasting about it. Mr. + Spugg was standing among a little group of listening members of the club + and when he said that he had decided to send his chauffeur, he spoke with + a kind of simple earnestness, a determination that marks the character of + the man. + </p> + <p> + "Yes," he said, "we need all the man power we can command. This thing has + come to a showdown and we've got to recognise it. I told Henry that it's a + showdown and that he's to get ready and start right away." + </p> + <p> + "Well, Spugg," said one of the members "you're certainly setting us a fine + example." + </p> + <p> + "What else can a man do?" said Mr. Spugg. + </p> + <p> + "When does your chauffeur leave?" asked another man. + </p> + <p> + "Right away. I want him in the firing line just as quick as I can get him + there." + </p> + <p> + "It's a fine thing you're doing, Spugg," said a third member, "but do you + realise that your chauffeur may be killed?" + </p> + <p> + "I must take my chance on that," answered Mr. Spugg, firmly. "I've thought + this thing out and made up my mind: If my chauffeur is killed, I mean to + pay for him,—full and adequate compensation. The loss must fall on + me, not on him. Or, say Henry comes back mutilated,—say he loses a + leg,—say he loses two legs,—" + </p> + <p> + Here Mr. Spugg looked about him at his listeners, with a look that meant + that even three legs wouldn't be too much for him. + </p> + <p> + "Whatever Henry loses I pay for. The loss shall fall on me, every cent of + it." + </p> + <p> + "Spugg," said a quiet looking, neatly dressed man whom I knew to be the + president of an insurance company and who reached out and shook the + speaker by the hand, "this is a fine thing you're doing, a big thing. But + we mustn't let you do it alone. Let our company take a hand in it. We're + making a special rate now on chauffeurs, footmen, and house-servants sent + to the war, quite below the rate that actuarial figures justify. It is our + little war contribution," he added modestly. "We like to feel that we're + doing our bit, too. We had a chauffeur killed last week. We paid for him + right off without demur,—waived all question of who killed him. I + never signed a check (as I took occasion to say in a little note I wrote + to his people) with greater pleasure." + </p> + <p> + "What do you do if Henry's mutilated?" asked Mr. Spugg, turning his quiet + eyes on the insurance man and facing the brutal facts of things without + flinching. "What do you pay? Suppose I lose the use of Henry's legs, what + then?" + </p> + <p> + "It's all right," said his friend. "Leave it to us. Whatever he loses, we + make it good." + </p> + <p> + "All right," said Spugg, "send me round a policy. I'm going to see Henry + clear through on this." + </p> + <p> + It was at this point that at my own urgent request I was introduced to Mr. + Spugg, so that I might add my congratulations to those of the others. I + told him that I felt, as all the other members of the club did, that he + was doing a big thing, and he answered again, in his modest way, that he + didn't see what else a man could do. + </p> + <p> + "My son Alfred and I," he said, "talked it over last night and we agreed + that we can run the car ourselves, or make a shot at it anyway. After all, + it's war time." + </p> + <p> + "What branch of the service are you putting your chauffeur in?" I asked. + </p> + <p> + "I'm not sure," he answered. "I think I'll send him up in the air. It's + dangerous, of course, but it's no time to think about that." + </p> + <p> + So, in due time, Mr. Spugg's chauffeur, Henry, went overseas. He was + reported first as in England. Next he was right at the front, at the very + firing itself. We knew then,—everybody in the club knew that Mr. + Spugg's chauffeur might be killed at any moment. But great as the strain + must have been, Spugg went up and down to his office and in and out of the + club without a tremor. The situation gave him a new importance in our + eyes, something tense. + </p> + <p> + "This seems to be a terrific business," I said to him one day at lunch, + "this new German drive." + </p> + <p> + "My chauffeur," said Mr. Spugg, "was right in the middle of it." + </p> + <p> + "He was, eh?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes," he continued, "one shell burst in the air so near him it almost + broke his wings." + </p> + <p> + Mr. Spugg told this with no false boasting or bravado, eating his celery + as he spoke of it. Here was a man who had nearly had his chauffeur's wings + blown off and yet he never moved a muscle. I began to realize the kind of + resolute stuff that the man was made of. + </p> + <p> + A few days later bad news came to the club. + </p> + <p> + "Have you heard the bad news about Spugg?" someone asked. + </p> + <p> + "No, what?" + </p> + <p> + "His chauffeur's been gassed." + </p> + <p> + "How is he taking it?" + </p> + <p> + "Fine. He's sending off his gardener to take the chauffeur's place." + </p> + <p> + So that was Mr. Spugg's answer to the Germans. + </p> + <p> + We lunched together that day. + </p> + <p> + "Yes," he said, "Henry's gassed. How it happened I don't know. He must + have come down out of the air. I told him I wanted him in the air. But let + it pass. It's done now." + </p> + <p> + "And you're sending your gardener?" + </p> + <p> + "I am," said Spugg. "He's gone already. I called him in from the garden + yesterday. I said, 'William, Henry's been gassed. Our first duty is to + keep up our man power at the front. You must leave to-night.'" + </p> + <p> + "What are you putting William into?" I asked + </p> + <p> + "Infantry. He'll do best in the trenches,—digs well and is a very + fair shot. Anyway I want him to see all the fighting that's going. If the + Germans want give and take in this business they can have it. They'll soon + see who can stand it best. I told William when he left. I said, 'William, + we've got to show these fellows that man for man we're a match for them.' + That's the way I look at it, man for man." + </p> + <p> + I watched Mr. Spugg's massive face as he went on with his meal. Not a + nerve of it moved. If he felt any fear, at least he showed no trace of it. + </p> + <p> + After that I got war news from him at intervals, in little scraps, as I + happened to meet him. "The war looks bad," I said to him one day as I + chanced upon him getting into his motor. "This submarine business is + pretty serious." + </p> + <p> + "It is," he said, "William was torpedoed yesterday." + </p> + <p> + Then he got into his car and drove away, as quietly as if nothing had + happened. + </p> + <p> + A little later that day I heard him talking about it in the club. "Yes," + he was saying, "a submarine. It torpedoed William,—my gardener. I + have both a chauffeur and a gardener at the war. William was picked up on + a raft. He's in pretty bad shape. My son Alfred had a cable from him that + he's coming home. We've both telegraphed him to stick it out." + </p> + <p> + The news was the chief topic in the club that day. "Spugg's gardener has + been torpedoed," they said, "but Spugg refuses to have him quit and come + home." "Well done, Spugg," said everybody. + </p> + <p> + After that we had news from time to time about both William and Henry. + </p> + <p> + "Henry's out of the hospital," said Spugg. "I hope to have him back in + France in a few days. William's in bad shape still. I had a London surgeon + go and look at him. I told him not to mind the expense but to get William + fixed up right away. It seems that one arm is more or less paralysed. I've + wired back to him not to hesitate. They say William's blood is still too + thin for the operation. I've cabled to them to take some of Henry's. I + hate to do it, but this is no time to stick at anything." + </p> + <p> + A little later William and Henry were reported both back in France. This + was at the very moment of the great offensive. But Spugg went about his + daily business unmoved. Then came the worst news of all. "William and + Henry," he said to me, "are both missing. I don't know where the devil + they are." + </p> + <p> + "Missing?" I repeated. + </p> + <p> + "Both of them. The Germans have caught them both. I suppose I shan't have + either of them back now till the war is all over." + </p> + <p> + He gave a slight sigh,—the only sign of complaint that ever I had + heard come from him. + </p> + <p> + But the next day we learned what was Spugg's answer to the German's + capture of William and Henry. + </p> + <p> + "Have you heard what Spugg is doing?" the members of the club asked one + another. + </p> + <p> + "What?" + </p> + <p> + "He's sending over Meadows, HIS OWN MAN!" + </p> + <p> + There was no need to comment on it. The cool courage of the thing spoke + for itself. Meadows,—Spugg's own man,—his house valet, without + whom he never travelled twenty miles! + </p> + <p> + "What else was there to do?" said Mr. Spugg when I asked him if it was + true that Meadows was going. "I take no credit for sending Meadows nor, + for the matter of that, for anything that Meadows may do over there. It + was a simple matter of duty. My son and I had him into the dining room + last night after dinner. 'Meadows,' we said, 'Henry and William are + caught. Our man power at the front has got to be kept up. There's no one + left but ourselves and you. There's no way out of it. You'll have to go.'" + </p> + <p> + "But how," I protested, "can you get along with Meadows, your valet, gone? + You'll be lost!" + </p> + <p> + "We must do the best we can. We've talked it all over. My son will help me + dress and I will help him. We can manage, no doubt." + </p> + <p> + So Meadows went. + </p> + <p> + After this Mr. Spugg, dressed as best he could manage it, and taking turns + with his son in driving his own motor, was a pathetic but uncomplaining + object. + </p> + <p> + Meadows meantime was reported as with the heavy artillery, doing well. "I + hope nothing happens to Meadows," Spugg kept saying. "If it does, we're + stuck. We can't go ourselves. We're too busy. We've talked it over and + we've both decided that it's impossible to get away from the office,—not + with business as brisk as it is now. We're busier than we've been in ten + years and can't get off for a day. We may try to take a month off for the + Adirondacks a little later but as for Europe, it's out of the question." + </p> + <p> + Meantime, one little bit of consolation came to help Mr. Spugg to bear the + burden of the war. I found him in the lounge room of the club one + afternoon among a group of men, exhibiting two medals that were being + passed from hand to hand. + </p> + <p> + "Sent to me by the French government," he explained proudly. "They're for + William and Henry. The motto means, 'For Conspicuous Courage"' (Mr. Spugg + drew himself up with legitimate pride). "I shall keep one and let Alfred + keep the other till they come back." Then he added, as an afterthought, + "They may never come back." + </p> + <p> + From that day on, Mr. Spugg, with his French medal on his watch chain, was + the most conspicuous figure in the club. He was pointed out as having done + more than any other one man in the institution to keep the flag flying. + But presently the limit of Mr. Spugg's efforts and sacrifices was reached. + Even patriotism such as his must have some bounds. + </p> + <p> + On entering the club one afternoon I could hear his voice bawling + vociferously in one of the telephone cabinets in the hall. "Hello, + Washington," he was shouting. "Is that Washington? Long Distance, I want + Washington." + </p> + <p> + Fifteen minutes later he came up to the sitting room, still flushed with + indignation and excitement. "That's the limit," he said, "the absolute + limit!" + </p> + <p> + "What's the matter?" I asked. + </p> + <p> + "They drafted my son Alfred," he answered. + </p> + <p> + "Just imagine it! When we're so busy in the office that we're getting down + there at half past eight in the morning! Drafted Alfred! 'Great Caesar' I + said to them! 'Look here! You've had my chauffeur and he's gassed, and + you've had my gardener and he's torpedoed and they're both prisoners, and + last month I sent you my own man! That,' I said, 'is about the limit.'" + </p> + <p> + "What did they say," I asked. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, it's all right. They've fixed it all up and they've apologized as + well. Alfred won't go, of course, but it makes one realise that you can + carry a thing too far. Why, they'd be taking me next!" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, surely not!" I said. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + 3.—If Germany Had Won + </h2> + <p> + Sometimes, in the past, we have grown a little impatient with our North + American civilisation, with its strident clamour, its noisy elections, its + extremes of liberty, its occasional corruption and the faults that we now + see were the necessary accompaniments of its merits. But let us set beside + it a picture such as this, taken from the New York Imperial Gazette of + 1925—or from any paper of the same period, such as would have been + published if Germany had won. + </p> + <h3> + —— + </h3> + <p> + General Boob of Boobenstiff, Imperial Governor of New York, will attend + divine (Imperial) service on Sunday morning next at the church of St. John + the (Imperial) Divine. The subway cars will be stopped while the General + is praying. All subway passengers are enjoined (befohlen), during the + thus-to-be-ordered period of cessation, to remain in a reverential + attitude. Those in the seats will keep the head bowed. Those holding to + the straps will elevate one leg, keeping the knee in the air. + </p> + <p> + On Monday evening General Boob von Boobenstiff, Imperial Governor of New + York, will be graciously pleased to attend a performance at the (Imperial) + Winter Garden on Upper (Imperial) Broadway. It is ordered that on the + entrance of His Excellency the audience will spontaneously rise and break + into three successive enthusiastic cheers. Mr. Al Jolson will remain + kneeling on the stage till the Gubernatorial All Highest has seated + itself. Mr. Jolson will then, by special (Imperial) permission, be allowed + to make four jokes in German to be taken from a list supplied by the + Imperial Censor of Humour. The Governor, accompanied by his military + staff, will then leave, and the performance will close. + </p> + <h3> + —— + </h3> + <p> + It is ordered that, on Tuesday afternoon, as a sign of thankfulness for + the blessings of the German peace, the business men of New York shall walk + in procession from the Battery to the Bronx. They will then be inspected + by Governor Boobenstiff. If the Governor is delayed in arriving at the + hereafter-to-be-indicated point of general put-yourself-there, the + procession will walk back to the Battery and back again, continuing so, + pro and con, till the arrival of the Governor. + </p> + <h3> + —— + </h3> + <p> + The approaching visit of His Royal and Imperial Solemnity the Prince + Apparent of Bavaria shall be heralded in the (Imperial) City of New York + with general rejoicing. The city shall be spontaneously decorated with + flags. Smiles of cordial welcome shall appear on every face. Animated + crowds of eager citizens shall move to and fro and shouts of welcome + shall, by order of the Chief of Police, break from the lips. Among those + who are expected to be in the Imperial city to welcome his Royal Solemnity + will be the Hereditary Grand Duke of Schlitzin-Mein (formerly Milwaukee), + the Prince Margrave of Wisconsin and the Hereditary Chief Constable of + Nevada. + </p> + <h3> + —— + </h3> + <p> + We are delighted to be able to chronicle that on the morning of the 14th + there was born at the Imperial Residence of His Simplicity the Hereditary + Governor of the Provinz (formerly State) of New York, in the (Imperial) + city of Albany a tenth son to the illustrious Prince and Princess who rule + over us with such fatherly care. The boy was christened yesterday at the + (Imperial) Lutheran Church and is to bear the name Frederick Wilhelm + Amelia Mary Johan Heinrich Ruprecht. The whole city of Albany is thrown + into the wildest rejoicing. The legislature has voted an addition of + $400,000 per annum to the civil list for the maintenance of the young + prince. Joy suffuses every home. This being the tenth son born to their + Highnesses in ten years it is felt that the future of the dynasty is more + or less secured. Even the humblest home is filled with the reflected joy + that streams out from the Residency. Their Royal Highnesses appeared + yesterday on the balcony amid the wild huzzoos of the people transported + with joy. His Simplicity the Prince wore the full dress uniform of an + Imperial Jaeger of the Adirondacks, and Her Royal Highness was attired as + a Colonel of Artillery. It is impossible to express the jubilation of the + moment. + </p> + <h3> + —— + </h3> + <p> + We regret to report that owing to the jostling (possibly accidental, but + none the less actual) of an Imperial officer—Field-Lieutenant + Schmidt—at the entrance to Brooklyn Bridge, the bridge is declared + closed to the public until further notice. We are proud to state the Field + Lieutenant at once cut down his cowardly assailant with his saber. It has + pleased His Unspeakable Loftiness, the German Emperor, to cable his + congratulations to the Lieutenant, who will receive The Order of the Dead + Dog for the noble way in which he has maintained the traditions of his + uniform. + </p> + <h3> + —— + </h3> + <p> + A striking feature of the now-taking-place Art Exhibition at the Kaiser + Wilhelm Institute (formerly Metropolitan Gallery) in the Thiergarten + (formerly Central Park) is offered by the absolutely marvellous paintings + exhibited by the Princess Marie Paul Cecilie Hohenzollern-Stickitintothem, + a cousin of Our Noble Governor. The paintings which the Princess has been + preciously pleased to paint and has even stooped to exhibit to the + filled-with-wonder eye of the public have been immediately awarded the + first prize in each class. While it would be invidious even to suggest + that any one of Her High Incipiency's pictures is better than any other, + our feeling is that especially the picture Night on the Hudson River is of + so rare a quality both of technique and of inspiration that it supersedes + the bounds of the hitherto-thought-to-be-possible art in America. The + Princess's conception of night, black as a pall and yet luminous as a + polished stove pipe, is only equalled by her feeling towards the Hudson + which lies extended in soporific superficiality beneath the sable covering + of darkness in which Her Highness has been pleased to overwhelm it. + Throughout the day an eager-to-see crowd of spectators were beaten back + from the picture by the police with clubs. + </p> + <h3> + —— + </h3> + <p> + We are permitted officially to confirm the already + gladly-from-mouth-to-mouth-whispered news of an approaching marriage + between Prince Heinrich of Texas and the Princess Amelia Victoria Louisa, + Hereditary Heir Consumptive of the Imperial Provinz of Maine. The + marriage, so it is whispered, although performed in accordance with the + wishes of the Emperor as expressed by cable, is in every way a love match. + What lends a touch of romance to the betrothal of the Royal Younglings is + that the Prince had never even seen the Princess Amelia until the day when + the legislature of the Provinz of Maine voted her a marriage portion of + half a million dollars. Immediately on this news a secret visit was + arranged, the Prince journeying to Bangor incognito as the Count of + Flim-Flam in the costume of an officer of the Imperial Scavengers. On + receipt of the Emperor's telegram the happy pair fell in love with one + another at once. What makes the approaching union particularly auspicious + for the whole country is that it brings with it the union of Maine and + Texas, henceforth to form a single grateful provinz. The Royal Pair, it is + understood, will live alternately in each province a month at a time and + the legislature, the executive officials, the courts of law and the tax + collectors will follow them to and fro. + </p> + <p> + We cannot but contrast this happy issue with the turbulence and disorder + in which our country lived before the Great War of Liberation. + </p> + <h3> + —— + </h3> + <p> + We are delighted to learn from our despatches from Boston that the + Hohenzollern Institute (formerly Harvard University) is to be opened next + autumn. By express permission of the Imperial Government, classes in + English will be permitted for half an hour each day. + </p> + <p> + By the clemency of the Emperor the sentences of W. H. Taft, and W. Wilson + have been commuted from the sentence of fifty years imprisonment to + imprisonment for life. We hope, in a special supplement, to be able to add + the full list of sentences, executions, imprisonments, fines, and + attainders that have been promulgated in honour of the birthday of our + Imperial Sovereign. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + 4.—War and Peace at the Galaxy Club + </h2> + <p> + The Great Peace Kermesse at the Galaxy Club, to which I have the honour to + belong, held with a view to wipe out the Peace Deficit of the Club, has + just ended. For three weeks our club house has been a blaze of + illumination. We have had four orchestras in attendance. There have been + suppers and dances every night. Our members have not spared themselves. + </p> + <p> + The Kermesse is now over. We have time, as our lady members are saying, to + turn round. + </p> + <p> + For the moment we are sitting listening, amid bursts of applause, to our + treasurer's statement. As we hear it we realise that this Peace Kermesse + has proved the culmination and crown of four winters' war work. + </p> + <p> + But I must explain from the beginning. + </p> + <p> + Our efforts began with the very opening of the war. We felt that a rich + organisation like ours ought to do something for the relief of the + Belgians. At the same time we felt that our members would rather receive + something in the way of entertainment for their money than give it + straight out of their pockets. + </p> + <p> + We therefore decided first to hold a public lecture in the club, and + engaged the services of Professor Dry to lecture on the causes of the war. + </p> + <p> + In view of the circumstances, Professor Dry very kindly reduced his + lecture fee, which (he assured us) is generally two hundred and fifty + dollars, to two hundred and forty. + </p> + <p> + The lecture was most interesting. Professor Dry traced the causes of the + War backwards through the Middle Ages. He showed that it represented the + conflict of the brachiocephalic culture of the Wendic races with the + dolichocephalic culture of the Alpine stock. At the time when the lights + went out he had got it back to the eighth century before Christ. + </p> + <p> + Unfortunately the night, being extremely wet, was unfavourable. Few of our + members care to turn out to lectures in wet weather. The treasurer was + compelled to announce to the Committee a net deficit of two hundred + dollars. Some of the ladies of the Committee moved that the entire deficit + be sent to the Belgians, but were overruled by the interference of the + men. + </p> + <p> + But the error was seen to have been in the choice of the lecturer. Our + members were no longer interested in the causes of the war. The topic was + too old. We therefore held another public lecture in the club, on the + topic What Will Come After the War. It was given by a very talented + gentleman, a Mr. Guess, a most interesting speaker, who reduced his fee + (as the thing was a war charity) by one-half, leaving it at three hundred + dollars. Unhappily the weather was against us. It was too fine. Our + members scarcely care to listen to lectures in fine weather. And it turned + out that our members are not interested in what will come after the war. + The topic is too new. Our receipts of fifty dollars left us with a net + deficit of two hundred and fifty. Our treasurer therefore proposed that we + should carry both deficits forward and open a Special Patriotic + Entertainment Account showing a net total deficit of four hundred and + fifty dollars. + </p> + <p> + In the opinion of the committee our mistake had been in engaging outside + talent. It was felt that the cost of this was prohibitive. It was better + to invite the services of the members of the club themselves. A great + number of the ladies expressed their willingness to take part in any kind + of war work that took the form of public entertainment. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly we presented a play. It was given in the ball room of the club + house, a stage being specially put up for us by a firm of contractors. The + firm (as a matter of patriotism) did the whole thing for us at cost, + merely charging us with the labour, the material, the time, the thought + and the anxiety that they gave to the job, but for nothing else. In fact, + the whole staging, including lights, plumbing and decorations was merely a + matter of five hundred dollars. The plumbers very considerately made no + charge for their time, but only for their work. + </p> + <p> + It was felt that it would be better to have a new play than an old. We + selected a brilliant little modern drawing-room comedy never yet + presented. The owner of the copyright, a theatrical firm, let us use it + for a merely nominal fee of two hundred dollars, including the sole right + to play the piece forever. There being only twenty-eight characters in it, + it was felt to be more suitable than a more ambitious thing. The tickets + were placed at one dollar, no one being admitted free except the + performers themselves, and the members who very kindly acted as scene + shifters, curtain lifters, ushers, door-keepers, programme sellers, and + the general committee of management. All the performers, at their own + suggestion, supplied their own costumes, charging nothing to the club + except the material and the cost of dressmaking. Beyond this there was no + expense except for the fee, very reasonable, of Mr. Skip, the professional + coach who trained the performers, and who asked us, in view of the + circumstances, less than half of what he would have been willing to + accept. + </p> + <p> + The proceeds were to be divided between the Belgian Fund and the Red + Cross, giving fifty per cent to each. A motion in amendment from the + ladies' financial committee to give fifty per cent to the Belgian Fund and + sixty per cent to the Red Cross was voted down. + </p> + <p> + Unfortunately it turned out that the idea of a PLAY was a mistake in + judgment. Our members, it seemed, did not care to go to see a play except + in a theatre. A great number of them, however, very kindly turned out to + help in shifting the scenery and in acting as ushers. + </p> + <p> + Our treasurer announced, as the result of the play, a net deficit of + twelve hundred dollars. He moved, with general applause, that it be + carried forward. + </p> + <p> + The total deficit having now reached over sixteen hundred dollars, there + was a general feeling that a very special effort must be made to remove + it. It was decided to hold Weekly Patriotic Dances in the club ball room, + every Saturday evening. No charge was made for admission to the dances, + but a War Supper was served at one dollar a head. + </p> + <p> + Unfortunately the dances, as first planned, proved again an error. It + appeared that though our members are passionately fond of dancing, few if + any of them cared to eat at night. The plan was therefore changed. The + supper was served first, and was free, and for the dancing after supper a + charge was made of one dollar, per person. This again was an error. It + seems that after our members have had supper they prefer to go home and + sleep. After one winter of dancing the treasurer announced a total + Patriotic Relief Deficit of five thousand dollars, to be carried forward + to next year. This sum duly appeared in the annual balance sheet of the + club. The members, especially the ladies, were glad to think that we were + at least doing SOMETHING for the war. + </p> + <p> + At this point some of our larger men, themselves financial experts, took + hold. They said that our entertainments had been on too small a scale. + They told us that we had been "undermined by overhead expenses." The word + "overhead" was soon on everybody's lips. We were told that if we could + "distribute our overhead" it would disappear. It was therefore planned to + hold a great War Kermesse with a view to spreading out the overhead so + thin that it would vanish. + </p> + <p> + But it was at this very moment that the Armistice burst upon us in a + perfectly unexpected fashion. Everyone of our members was, undoubtedly, + delighted that the war was over but there was a very general feeling that + it would have been better if we could have had a rather longer notice of + what was coming. It seemed, as many of our members said, such a leap in + the dark to rush into peace all at once. It was said indeed by our best + business men that in financial circles they had been fully aware that + there was a danger of peace for some time and had taken steps to discount + the peace risk. + </p> + <p> + But for the club itself the thing came with a perfect crash. The whole + preparation of the great Kermesse was well under way when the news broke + upon us. For a time the members were aghast. It looked like ruin. But + presently it was suggested that it might still be possible to save the + club by turning the whole affair into a Peace Kermesse and devoting the + proceeds to some suitable form of relief. Luckily it was discovered that + there was still a lot of starvation in Russia, and fortunately it turned + out that in spite of the armistice the Turks were still killing the + Armenians. + </p> + <p> + So it was decided to hold the Kermesse and give all the profits realised + by it to the Victims of the Peace. Everybody set to work again with a + will. The Kermesse indeed had to be postponed for a few months to make + room for the changes needed, but it has now been held and, in a certain + sense, it has been the wildest kind of success. The club, as I said, has + been a blaze of light for three weeks. We have had four orchestras in + attendance every evening. There have been booths draped with the flags of + all the Allies, except some that we were not sure about, in every corridor + of the club. There have been dinner parties and dances every evening. The + members, especially the ladies, have not spared themselves. Many of them + have spent practically all their time at the Kermesse, not getting home + until two in the morning. + </p> + <p> + And yet somehow one has felt that underneath the surface it was not a + success. The spirit seemed gone out of it. The members themselves + confessed in confidence that in spite of all they could do their hearts + were not in it. Peace had somehow taken away all the old glad sense of + enjoyment. As to spending money at the Kermesse all the members admitted + frankly that they had no heart for it. This was especially the case when + the rumour got abroad that the Armenians were a poor lot and that some of + the Turks were quite gentlemanly fellows. It was said, too, that if the + Russians did starve it would do them a lot of good. + </p> + <p> + So it was known even before we went to hear the financial report that + there would be no question of profits on the Kermesse going to the + Armenians or the Russians. + </p> + <p> + And to-night the treasurer has been reading out to a general meeting the + financial results as nearly as they can be computed. + </p> + <p> + He has put the Net Patriotic Deficit, as nearly as he can estimate it, at + fifteen thousand dollars, though he has stated, with applause from the + ladies, that the Gross Deficit is bigger still. + </p> + <p> + The Ladies Financial Committee has just carried a motion that the whole of + the deficit, both net and gross, be now forwarded to the Red Cross Society + (sixty per cent), the Belgian Relief Fund (fifty per cent), and the + remainder invested in the War Loan. + </p> + <p> + But there is a very general feeling among the male members that the club + will have to go into liquidation. Peace has ruined us. Not a single + member, so far as I am aware, is prepared to protest against the peace, or + is anything but delighted to think that the war is over. At the same time + we do feel that if we could have had a longer notice, six months for + instance, we could have braced ourselves better to stand up against it and + meet the blow when it fell. + </p> + <p> + I think, too, that our feeling is shared outside. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + 5.—The War News as I Remember it + </h2> + <p> + Everybody, I think, should make some little contribution towards keeping + alive the memories of the great war. In the larger and heroic sense this + is already being done. But some of the minor things are apt to be + neglected. When the record of the war has been rewritten into real + history, we shall be in danger of forgetting what WAR NEWS was like and + the peculiar kind of thrill that accompanied its perusal. + </p> + <p> + Hence in order to preserve it for all time I embalm some little samples of + it, selected of course absolutely at random,—as such things always + are—in the pages of this book. + </p> + <p> + Let me begin with:— + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I—THE CABLE NEWS FROM RUSSIA + </h2> + <p> + This was the great breakfast-table feature for at least three years. + Towards the end of the war some people began to complain of it. They said + that they questioned whether it was accurate. Here for example is one + fortnight of it. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +Petrograd, April 14. Word has reached here that the + Germans have captured enormous quantities of grain on + the Ukrainian border. +April 15. The Germans have captured no grain on the + Ukrainian border. The country is swept bare. +April 16. Everybody in Petrograd is starving. +April 17. There is no lack of food in Petrograd. +April 18. The death of General Korniloff is credibly + reported this morning. +April 19. It is credibly reported this morning that + General Korniloff is alive. +April 20. It is credibly reported that General + Korniloff is hovering between life and death. +April 21. The Bolsheviki are overthrown. +April 22. The Bolsheviki got up again. +April 23. The Czar died last night. +April 24. The Czar did not die last night. +April 25. General Kaleidescope and his Cossacks + are moving north. +April 26. General Kaleidescope and his Cossacks + are moving south. +April 27. General Kaleidescope and his Cossacks + are moving east. +April 28. General Kaleidescope and his Cossacks + are moving west. +April 29. It is reported that the Cossacks under General + Kaleidescope have revolted. They demand the Maximum. + General Kaleidescope hasn't got it. +April 30. The National Pan-Russian Constituent Universal + Duma which met this morning at ten-thirty, was + dissolved at twenty-five minutes to eleven. +</pre> + <p> + My own conclusion, reached with deep regret, is that the Russians are not + yet fit for the blessings of the Magna Carta and the Oklahama Constitution + of 1907. They ought to remain for some years yet under the Interstate + Commerce Commission. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II—SAMPLE OF SPECIAL CORRESPONDENCE + </h2> + <p> + New York (through London via Holland and coming out at Madrid). Mr. O. + Howe Lurid, our special correspondent, writing from "Somewhere near + Somewhere" and describing the terrific operations of which he has just + been an eyewitness, says: + </p> + <p> + "From the crest where I stood, the whole landscape about me was + illuminated with the fierce glare of the bursting shells, while the ground + on which I stood quivered with the thunderous detonation of the artillery. + </p> + <p> + "Nothing in the imagination of a Dante could have equalled the lurid and + pyrogriffic grandeur of the scene. Streams of fire rose into the sky, + falling in bifurcated crystallations in all directions. Disregarding all + personal danger, I opened one eye and looked at it. + </p> + <p> + "I found myself now to be the very centre of the awful conflict. While not + stating that the whole bombardment was directed at me personally, I am + pretty sure that it was." + </p> + <p> + I admit that there was a time, at the very beginning of the war, when I + liked this kind of thing served up with my bacon and eggs every morning, + in the days when a man could eat bacon and eggs without being labelled a + pro-German. Later on I came to prefer the simple statements as to the same + scene and event, given out by Sir Douglas Haig and General Pershing—after + this fashion: + </p> + <p> + "Last night at ten-thirty P.M. our men noticed signs of a light + bombardment apparently coming from the German lines." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III—THE TECHNICAL WAR DESPATCHES + </h2> + <p> + The best of these, as I remember them, used to come from the Italian front + and were done after this fashion:— + </p> + <p> + "Tintino, near Trombono. Friday, April 3. The Germans, as I foresaw last + month they would, have crossed the Piave in considerable force. Their + position, as I said it would be, is now very strong. The mountains + bordering the valley run—just as I foresaw they would—from + northwest to southeast. The country in front is, as I anticipated, flat. + Venice is, as I assured my readers it would be, about thirty miles distant + from the Piave, which falls, as I expected it would, into the Adriatic." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV—THE WAR PROPHECIES + </h2> + <p> + Startling Prophecy in Paris. All Paris is wildly excited over the + extraordinary prophecy of Madame Cleo de Clichy that the war will be over + in four weeks. Madame Cleo, who is now as widely known as a diseuse, a + liseuse, a friseuse and a clairvoyante, leaped into sudden prominence last + November by her startling announcement that the seven letters in the + Kaiser's name W i l h e l m represented the seven great beasts of the + apocalypse; in the next month she electrified all Paris by her disclosure + that the four letters of the word C z a r—by substituting the figure + 1 for C, 9 for Z, 1 for A, and 7 for R produce the date 1917, and + indicated a revolution in Russia. The salon of Madame Cleo is besieged by + eager crowds night and day. She may prophesy again at any minute. + </p> + <p> + Startling Forecast. A Russian peasant, living in Semipalatinsk, has + foretold that the war will end in August. The wildest excitement prevails + not only in Semipalatinsk but in the whole of it. + </p> + <p> + Extraordinary Prophecy. Rumbumbabad, India. April 1. The whole + neighbourhood has been thrown into a turmoil by the prophecy of Ram Slim, + a Yogi of this district, who has foretold that the war will be at an end + in September. People are pouring into Rumbumbabad in ox-carts from all + directions. Business in Rumbumbabad is at a standstill. + </p> + <p> + Excitement in Midgeville, Ohio. William Bessemer Jones, a retired farmer + of Cuyahoga, Ohio, has foretold that the war will end in October. People + are flocking into Midgeville in lumber wagons from all parts of the + country. Jones, who bases his prophecy on the Bible, had hitherto been + thought to be half-witted. This is now recognised to have been a wrong + estimate of his powers. Business in Midgeville is at a standstill. + </p> + <p> + Dog's Foot. Wyoming. April 1. An Indian of the Cheyenne tribe has foretold + that the war will end in December. Business among the Indians is at a + standstill. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V—DIPLOMATIC REVELATIONS + </h2> + <p> + These were sent out in assortments, and labelled Vienna, via London, + through Stockholm. After reading them with feverish eagerness for nearly + four years, I decided that they somehow lack definiteness. Here is the way + they ran: + </p> + <p> + "Special Correspondence. I learn from a very high authority, whose name I + am not at liberty to mention, (speaking to me at a place which I am not + allowed to indicate and in a language which I am forbidden to use)—that + Austria-Hungary is about to take a diplomatic step of the highest + importance. What this step is, I am forbidden to say. But the consequences + of it—which unfortunately I am pledged not to disclose—will be + such as to effect results which I am not free to enumerate." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI—A NEW GERMAN PEACE FORMULA + </h2> + <p> + Dr. Hertling, the Imperial Chancellor, speaking through his hat in the + Reichstag, said that he wished to state in the clearest language of which + he was capable that the German peace plan would not only provide the + fullest self determination of all ethnographic categories, but would + predicate the political self consciousness (politisches Selbstbewusztsein) + of each geographical and entomological unit, subject only to the necessary + rectilinear guarantees for the seismographic action of the German empire. + The entire Reichstag, especially the professorial section of it, broke + into unrestrained applause. It is felt that the new formula is the + equivalent of a German Magna Carta—or as near to it as they can get. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII—THE FINANCIAL NEWS + </h2> + <p> + The war finance, as I remember it, always supplied items of the most + absorbing interest. I do not mean to say that I was an authority on + finance or held any official position in regard to it. But I watched it. I + followed it in the newspapers. When the war began I knew nothing about it. + But I picked up a little bit here and a little bit there until presently I + felt that I had a grasp on it not easily shaken off. + </p> + <p> + It was a simple matter, anyway. Take the case of the rouble. It rose and + it fell. But the reason was always perfectly obvious. The Russian news + ran, as I got it in my newspapers, like this:— + </p> + <p> + "M. Touchusoff, the new financial secretary of the Soviet, has declared + that Russia will repay her utmost liabilities. Roubles rose." + </p> + <p> + "M. Touchusoff, the late financial secretary of the Soviet, was thrown + into the Neva last evening. Roubles fell." + </p> + <p> + "M. Gorky, speaking in London last night, said that Russia was a great + country. Roubles rose." + </p> + <p> + "A Dutch correspondent, who has just beat his way out of Russia, reports + that nothing will induce him to go back. Roubles fell." + </p> + <p> + "Mr. Arthur Balfour, speaking in the House of Commons last night, paid a + glowing tribute to the memory of Peter the Great. Roubles rose." + </p> + <p> + "The local Bolsheviki of New York City at the Pan-Russian Congress held in + Murphy's Rooms, Fourth Avenue, voted unanimously in favor of a Free + Russia. Roubles never budged." + </p> + <p> + With these examples in view, anybody, I think, could grasp the central + principles of Russian finance. All that one needed to know was what M. + Touchusoff and such people were going to say, and who would be thrown into + the Neva, and the rise and fall of the rouble could be foreseen to a + kopeck. In speculation by shrewd people with proper judgment as to when to + buy and when to sell the rouble, large fortunes could be made, or even + lost, in a day. + </p> + <p> + But after all the Russian finance was simple. That of our German enemies + was much more complicated and yet infinitely more successful. That at + least I gathered from the little news items in regard to German finance + that used to reach us in cables that were headed Via Timbuctoo and ran + thus:— + </p> + <p> + "The fourth Imperial War Loan of four billion marks, to be known as the + Kaiser's War Loan, was oversubscribed to-day in five minutes. Investors + thronged the banks, with tears in their eyes, bringing with them + everything that they had. The bank managers, themselves stained with + tears, took everything that was offered. Each investor received a button + proudly displayed by the too-happy-for-words out-of-the-bank-hustling + recipient." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + 6.—Some Just Complaints About the War + </h2> + <p> + No patriotic man would have cared to lift up his voice against the + Government in war time. Personally, I should not want to give utterance + even now to anything in the way of criticism. But the complaints which + were presented below came to me, unsought and unsolicited, and represented + such a variety of sources and such just and unselfish points of view that + I think it proper, for the sake of history, to offer them to the public. + </p> + <p> + I give them, just as they reached me, without modifications of any sort. + </p> + <p> + The just complaint of Mr. Threadler, my tailor, as expressed while + measuring me for my Win-the-War autumn suit. + </p> + <p> + "Complaint, sir? Oh, no, we have no complaint to make in our line of + business, none whatever (forty-two, Mr. Jephson). It would hardly become + us to complain (side pockets, Mr. Jephson). But we think, perhaps, it is + rather a mistake for the Government (thirty-three on the leg) to encourage + the idea of economy in dress. Our attitude is that the well dressed man (a + little fuller in the chest? Yes, a little fuller in the chest, please, Mr. + Jephson) is better able to serve his country than the man who goes about + in an old suit. The motto of our trade is Thrift with Taste. It was made + up in our spring convention of five hundred members, in a four day + sitting. We feel it to be (twenty-eight) very appropriate. Our feeling is + that a gentleman wearing one of our thrift worsteds under one of our + Win-the-War light overcoats (Mr. Jephson, please show that new Win-the-War + overcoating) is really helping to keep things going. We like to reflect, + sir (nothing in shirtings, today?) that we're doing our bit, too, in + presenting to the enemy an undisturbed nation of well dressed men. Nothing + else, sir? The week after next? Ah! If we can, sir! but we're greatly + rushed with our new and patriotic Thrift orders. Good morning, sir." + </p> + <p> + The just complaint of Madame Pavalucini, the celebrated contralto. As + interviewed incidentally in the palm-room of The Slitz Hotel, over a cup + of tea (one dollar), French Win-the-War pastry (one fifty) and + Help-the-Navy cigarettes (fifty). + </p> + <p> + "I would not want to creetecize ze gouvermen' ah! non! That would be what + you call a skonk treeck, hein?" (Madame Pavalucini comes from Missouri, + and dares not talk any other kind of English than this, while on tour, + with any strangers listening.) "But, I ask myself, ees it not just a + leetle wrong to discourage and tax ze poor artistes? We are doing our + beet, hein? We seeng, we recite! I seeng so many beautiful sings to ze + soldiers; sings about love, and youth, and passion, and spring and kisses. + And the men are carried off their feet. They rise. They rush to the war. I + have seen them, in my patriotic concerts where I accept nothing but my + expenses and my fee and give all that is beyond to the war. Only last + night one arose, right in the front rank—the fauteuils d'orchestre, + I do not know how you call them in English. 'Let me out of zis,' he + scream, 'me for the war! Me for the trenches!' Was it not magnifique—what + you call splendide, hein? + </p> + <p> + "And then ze gouvermen' come and tell me I must pay zem ten thousan' + dollars, when I make only seexty thousan' dollars at ze opera! Anozzer + skonk treeck, hein?" + </p> + <p> + The just complaint of Mr. Grunch, income tax payer, as imparted to me over + his own port wine, after dinner. + </p> + <p> + "No, I shouldn't want to complain: I mean, in any way that would reach the + outside,—reach it, that is, in connection with my name. Though I + think that the thing ought to be said by SOMEBODY. I think you might say + it. (Let me pour you out another glass of this Conquistador: yes, it's the + old '87: but I suppose we'll never get any more of it on this side: they + say that the rich Spaniards are making so much money they're buying up + every cask of it and it will never be exported again. Just another + illustration of the way that the war hits everybody alike.) But, as I was + saying, I think if YOU were to raise a complaint about the income tax, + you'd find the whole country—I mean all the men with incomes—behind + you. I don't suppose they'd want you to mention their names. But they'd be + BEHIND you, see? They'd all be there. (Will you try one of these + Googoolias? They're the very best, but I guess we'll never see them again. + They say the rich Cubans are buying them up. So the war hits us there, + too.) As I see it, the income tax is the greatest mistake the government + ever made. It hits the wrong man. It falls on the man with an income and + lets the other man escape. The way I look at it, and the way all the men + that will be behind you look at it, is that if a man sticks tight to it + and goes on earning all the income he can, he's doing his bit, in his own + way, to win the war. All we ask is to be let alone (don't put that in your + notes as from me, but you can say it), let us alone to go on quietly + piling up income till we get the Germans licked. But if you start to take + away our income, you discourage us, you knock all the patriotism out of + us. To my mind, a man's income and his patriotism are the same thing. But, + of course, don't say that I said that." + </p> + <p> + The just complaint of my barber, as expressed in the pauses of his + operations. + </p> + <p> + "I'm not saying nothing against the Government (any facial massage this + morning?). I guess they know their own business, or they'd ought to, + anyway. But I kick at all this talk against the barber business in war + time (will I singe them ends a bit?). The papers are full of it, all the + time. I don't see much else in them. Last week I saw where a feller said + that all the barber shops ought to be closed up (bay rum?) till the war + was over. Say, I'd like to have him right here in this chair with a razor + at his throat, the way I have you! As I see it, the barber business is the + most necessary business in the whole war. A man'll get along without + everything else, just about, but he can't get along without a shave, can + he?—or not without losing all the pep and self-respect that keeps + him going. They say them fellers over in France has to shave every morning + by military order: if they didn't the Germans would have 'em beat. I say + the barber is doing his bit as much as any man. I was to Washington four + months last winter, and I done all the work of three senators and two + congressmen (will I clip that neck?) and I done the work of a United + States Admiral every Saturday night. If that ain't war work, show me what + is. But I don't kick, I just go along. If a man appreciates what I do, and + likes to pay a little extra for it, why so much the better, but if he's + low enough to get out of this chair you're in and walk off without giving + a cent more than he has to, why let him go. But, sometimes, when I get + thinking about all this outcry about barber's work in war time, I feel + like following the man to the door and slitting his throat for him... + Thank you, sir; thank you, sir. Good morning. Next!" + </p> + <p> + The just complaint of Mr. Singlestone;—formerly Mr. Einstein, + Theatre Proprietor. + </p> + <p> + "I would be the last man, the very last, to say one word against the + Government. I think they are doing fine. I think the boys in the trenches + are doing fine. I think the nation is doing fine. But, if there's just one + thing where they're wrong, it's in the matter of the theatres. I think it + would be much better for the Government not to attempt to cut down or + regulate theatres in any way. The theatre is the people's recreation. It + builds them up. It's all part of a great machine to win the war. I like to + stand in the box office and see the money come in and feel that the + theatre is doing its bit. But, mind you, I think the President is doing + fine. So, all I say is, I think the theatres ought to be allowed to do + fine, too." + </p> + <p> + The just complaint of Mr. Silas Heck, farmer, as interviewed by me, + incognito, at the counter of the Gold Dollar Saloon. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir, I say the Government's in the wrong, and I don't care who hears + me. (Say, is that feller in the slick overcoat listening? Let's move along + a little further.) They're right to carry on the war for all the nation is + worth. That's sound and I'm with 'em. But they ought not to take the + farmer offen his farm. There I'm agin them. The farmer is the one man + necessary for the country. They say they want bacon for the Allies. Well, + the way I look at it is, if you want bacon, you need hogs. And if there + are no men left in the country like me, what'll you do for hogs! + </p> + <p> + "Thanks, was you paying for that? I guess we won't have another, eh? Two + of them things might be bad for a feller." + </p> + <p> + So, when I used to listen to the complaints of this sort that rose on + every side, I was glad that I was not President of the United States. + </p> + <p> + At the same time I DO think that the Government makes a mistake in taxing + the profits of the poor book writers under the absurd name of INCOME. But + let that go. The Kaiser would probably treat us worse. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + 7.—Some Startling Side Effects of the War + </h2> + <p> + "There is no doubt," said Mr. Taft recently, "that the war is destined to + effect the most profound uplift and changes, not only in our political + outlook, but upon our culture, our thought and, most of all, upon our + literature." + </p> + <p> + I am not absolutely certain that Mr. Taft really said this. He may not + have said "uplift." But I seem to have heard something about uplift, + somewhere. At any rate, there is no doubt of the fact that our literature + has moved—up or down. Yes, the war is not only destined to affect + our literature, but it has already done so. The change in outlook, in + literary style, in mode of expression, even in the words themselves is + already here. + </p> + <p> + Anybody can see it for himself by turning over the pages of our + fashionable novels or by looking at the columns of our great American and + English newspapers and periodicals. + </p> + <p> + But stop,—let me show what I mean by examples. I have them here in + front of me. Take, for example, the London Spectator. Everybody recognised + in it a model of literary dignity and decorum. Even those who read it + least, admitted this most willingly; in fact, perhaps all the more so. In + its pages to-day one finds an equal dignity of thought, yet, somehow, the + wording seems to have undergone an alteration. One cannot say just where + the change comes in. It is what the French call a je ne sais quoi, a + something insaisissable, a sort of nuance, not amounting of course to a + lueur, but still,—how shall one put it,—SOMETHING. + </p> + <p> + The example that is given below was taken almost word for word (indeed + some of the words actually were so) from the very latest copy of The + Spectator. + </p> + <h3> + EDITORIAL FROM THE LONDON "SPECTATOR" + </h3> + <p> + Showing the Stimulating Effect of the War on Its Literary Style + </p> + <p> + "There is no doubt that our boys, and the Americans, are going some on the + western front. We have no hesitation in saying that last week's scrap was + a cinch for the boys. It is credibly reported by our correspondent at The + Hague that the German Emperor, the Crown Prince and a number of other guys + were eye witnesses of the fight. If so, they got the surprise of their + young lives. While we should not wish to show anything less than the + chivalrous consideration for a beaten enemy which has been a tradition of + our nation, we feel it is but just to say that for once the dirty pups got + what was coming to them. We are glad to learn from official quarters that + His Majesty King George has been graciously pleased to telegraph to + General Pershing, 'Soak it to 'em—and THEN some.' + </p> + <p> + "Meantime the situation from the point of view both of terrain and of + tactics remains altogether in our favour. The deep salient driven into the + German lines near Soissons threatens to break up their communications and + force a withdrawal on a wide front. We cannot make the position clearer to + our English readers than by saying that our new lines occupy, as it were, + the form of a baseball diamond, with Soissons at second base and with our + headquarters at the home plate and our artillery support at third. Our + readers will at once grasp the fact that, with our advance pivoted on the + pitcher's box and with adequate cover at short, the thing is a lead-pipe + cinch, —in fact, we have them lashed to the mast. + </p> + <p> + "Meantime the mood of the hour should be one, not of undue confidence or + boastfulness, but of quiet resolution and deep thankfulness. As the + Archbishop of Canterbury so feelingly put it in his sermon in Westminster + Abbey last Sunday, 'Now that we have them by the neck let us go on, in + deep and steadfast purpose, till we have twisted the gizzard out of them.' + </p> + <p> + "The Archbishop's noble words should, and will, re-echo in every English + home." + </p> + <p> + Critical people may be inclined to doubt the propriety, or even the + propinquity, of some of the literary changes due to the war. But there can + be no doubt of the excellent effect of one of them, namely, the increasing + knowledge and use among us of the pleasant language of France. It is no + exaggeration to say that, before the war, few people in the United States, + even among the colored population, spoke French with ease. In fact, in + some cases the discomfort was so obvious as to be almost painful. This is + now entirely altered. Thanks to our military guide-books, and to the + general feeling of the day, our citizens are setting themselves to acquire + the language of our gallant ally. And the signs are that they will do it. + One hears every day in metropolitan society such remarks as, "Have you + read, 'Soo le foo?'" "Oh, you mean that book by Haingri Barbooze? No, I + have not read it yet, but I have read 'Mong Swassant Quinz' you know, by + that other man." + </p> + <p> + This is hopeful indeed. Nor need we wonder that our best magazines are + reflecting the same tendency. + </p> + <p> + Here for instance are the opening sentences of a very typical serial now + running in one of our best periodicals: for all I know the rest of the + sentences may be like them. At any rate, any magazine reader will + recognize them at once: + </p> + <h3> + BONNE MERE PITOU + </h3> + <p> + A Conte of Old Normandy + </p> + <p> + Bonne Mere Pitou sat spinning beside the porte of the humble chaumiere in + which she dwelt. From time to time her eyes looked up and down the gran' + route that passed her door. + </p> + <p> + "Il ne vient pas," she murmured (he does not come). + </p> + <p> + She rose wearily and went dedans. Presently she came out again, dehors. + "Il ne vient toujours pas," she sighed (he still does not come). + </p> + <p> + About her in the tall trees of the allee the percherons twittered while + the soft roucoulement of the bees murmured drowsily in the tall calice of + the chou-fleur. + </p> + <p> + "Il n'est pas venu," she said (perfect tense, third singular, he is not, + or has not, come). + </p> + <p> + Can we blame him if he didn't? No doubt he was still studying his active + verb before tackling Mere Pitou. + </p> + <p> + But there! Let it pass. In any case it is not only the magazines, but the + novels themselves, that are being transformed by the war. Witness this: + </p> + <h3> + BY ONE OF OUR MOST POPULAR NOVELISTS + </h3> + <p> + "It was in the summer house, at the foot of the old garden, that the + awaited declaration came. Edwin kneeled at Angelina's feet. At last they + were alone! The successful barrage of conversation which he had put up at + breakfast had compelled her mother to remain in her trenches, and had + driven her father to the shelter of his dug-out. Her younger brother he + had camouflaged with the present of a new fishing rod, thus inducing him + to retire to the river. The communications with the servants had been cut. + Of the strict neutrality of the gardener he was already assured. Edwin + felt that the moment had come for going over the top. Yet being an able + strategist, he was anxious not to attempt to advance on too wide a front. + </p> + <p> + "Angelina!" he exclaimed, raising himself to one knee with his hands + outstretched toward her. The girl started as at the sound of an air bomb; + for a moment she elevated her eyes and looked him full in the tangent, + then she lowered them again but continued to observe him through her + mental periscope. + </p> + <p> + "Angelina," he repeated, "I have a declaration to make." + </p> + <p> + "As from what date?" she questioned quietly. Edwin drew his watch from his + pocket. + </p> + <p> + "As from this morning, at ten-forty-six," he said. Then, emboldened by her + passive attitude, he continued with rising passion in his tone. + </p> + <p> + "Ever since I first met you I have felt that I could not live without you. + I am a changed man. My calibre is altered. I feel ten centimeters wider in + the mouth than I did six weeks ago. I feel that my path is altered. I have + a new range and an angle of elevation such as I never experienced before. + I have hidden my love as best I could till now. I have worn a moral + gas-mask before your family. I can do so no longer. Angelina, will you be + mine, forming with me a single unit, drawing our rations from the same + field kitchen and occupying the same divisional headquarters?" + </p> + <p> + The girl seemed to hesitate. She raised her eyes to his. + </p> + <p> + "We know one another so little," she murmured. + </p> + <p> + Edwin felt that his offensive was failing. He therefore hastened to bring + up his means of support. + </p> + <p> + "I have an ample income of my own," he pleaded. + </p> + <p> + Angelina raised her eyes again. It was evident that she was about to + surrender. But at this moment her mother's voice was heard calling, + "Angelina, Angelina, my dear, where are you?" + </p> + <p> + The barrage had broken down. + </p> + <p> + "Quick," said the girl, "mobilize yourself. Pick up that tennis racket and + let us hurry to the court and dig ourselves in." + </p> + <p> + "But my declaration," urged Edwin eagerly. + </p> + <p> + "Accepted," she said, "as from eleven-two this morning." + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V.—Other Impossibilities + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + 1.—The Art of Conversation + </h2> + <h3> + I—HOW TO INTRODUCE TWO PEOPLE TO ONE ANOTHER + </h3> + <p> + Nothing is more important in introducing two people to each other than to + employ a fitting form of words. The more usually recognized forms are + easily learned and committed to memory and may be utilized as occasion + requires. I pass over such rudimentary formulas as "Ed, shake hands with + Jim Taylor," or, "Boys, this is Pete, the new hand; Pete, get hold of the + end of that cant-hook." In fact, we are speaking only of polite society as + graced by the fair sex, the only kind that we need care about. + </p> + <p> + The Third Avenue Procedure + </p> + <p> + A very neat and convenient form is that in vogue in Third Avenue circles, + New York, as, for instance, at a fifty-cents-a-head dance (ladies free) in + the hall of the Royal Knights of Benevolence. + </p> + <p> + "Miss Summerside, meet Mr. O'Hara," after which Miss Summerside says very + distinctly, "Mr. O'Hara," and Mr. O'Hara says with equal clearness "Miss + Summerside." In this circle a mark of exquisite breeding is found in the + request to have the name repeated. "I don't quite catch the name!" says + Mr. O'Hara critically; then he catches it and repeats it—"Miss + Summerside." + </p> + <p> + "Catching the name" is a necessary part of this social encounter. If not + caught the first time it must be put over again. The peculiar merit of + this introduction is that it lets Miss Summerside understand clearly that + Mr. O'Hara never heard of her before. That helps to keep her in her place. + </p> + <p> + In superior circles, however, introduction becomes more elaborate, more + flattering, more unctuous. It reaches its acme in what everyone recognizes + at once as + </p> + <p> + The Clerical Method + </p> + <p> + This is what would be instinctively used in Anglican circles—as, for + example, by the Episcopal Bishop of Boof in introducing a Canon of the + Church to one of the "lady workers" of the congregation (meaning a lady + too rich to work) who is expected to endow a crib in the Diocesan Home for + Episcopal Cripples. A certain quantity of soul has to be infused into this + introduction. Anybody who has ever heard it can fill in the proper + accentuation, which must be very rich and deep. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, Mrs. Putitover, MAY I introduce my very dear old friend, Canon + Cutitout? The Canon, Mrs. Putitover, is one of my DEAREST friends. Mrs. + Putitover, my dear Canon, is quite one of our most enthusiastic workers." + </p> + <p> + After which outburst of soul the Bishop is able to add, "Will you excuse + me, I'm afraid I simply MUST run." + </p> + <p> + Personally, I have never known or met a Bishop in society in any other + situation than just about to run. Where they run to, I do not know. But I + think I understand what they run from. + </p> + <p> + The Lounge Room of the Club + </p> + <p> + Equally high in the social scale but done quite differently is the Club + Introduction. It is done by a club man who, for the life of him, can't + remember the names of either of the two club men whom he is introducing, + and who each, for the life of him, can't think of the name of the man they + are being introduced by. It runs— + </p> + <p> + "Oh, I say, I beg your pardon—I thought, of course, you two fellows + knew one another perfectly well—let me introduce—urr——wurr——" + </p> + <p> + Later on, after three whiskey-and-sodas, each of the three finds out the + names of the other two, surreptitiously from the hall porter. But it makes + no difference. They forget them again anyway. Now let us move up higher, + in fact, very high. Let us approach the real thing. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_INTR" id="link2H_INTR"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Introduction to H.E. the Viceroy of India, K.C.B., + </h2> + <h3> + K.C.S.I., S.O.S. + </h3> + <p> + The most exalted form of introduction is seen in the presentation of Mr. + Tomkins, American tourist, to H.E. the Viceroy of India. An aide-de-camp + in uniform at the foot of a grand staircase shouts, "Mr. Tomkins!" An + aide-de-camp at the top (one minute later) calls "Mr. Thompson"; another + aide, four feet further on, calls "Mr. Torps." + </p> + <p> + Then a military secretary, standing close to His Excellency, takes Mr. + Tomkins by the neck and bends him down toward the floor and says very + clearly and distinctly, "Mr. Torpentine." Then he throws him out by the + neck into the crowd beyond and calls for another. The thing is done. Mr. + Tomkins wipes the perspiration from his hair with his handkerchief and + goes back at full speed to the Hoogli Hotel, Calcutta, eager for + stationery to write at once to Ohio and say that he knows the Viceroy. + </p> + <p> + The Office Introduction, One-sided + </p> + <p> + This introduction comes into our office, slipping past whoever keeps the + door with a packet of books under its arm. It says— + </p> + <p> + "Ledd me introduze myself. The book proposition vidge I am introduzing is + one vidge ve are now pudding on the market..." + </p> + <p> + Then, of two things, one— + </p> + <p> + Either a crash of glass is heard as the speaker is hurled through the + skylight, or he walks out twenty minutes later, bowing profusely as he + goes, and leaving us gazing in remorse at a signed document entitling us + to receive the "Masterpieces of American Poetry" in sixty volumes. + </p> + <p> + On the Stage + </p> + <p> + Everything on the stage is done far better than in real life. This is true + of introductions. There is a warmth, a soul, in the stage introduction not + known in the chilly atmosphere of everyday society. Let me quote as an + example of a stage introduction the formula used, in the best melodramatic + art, in the kitchen-living-room (stove right centre) of the New England + farm. + </p> + <p> + "Neighbour Jephson's son, this is my little gal, as good and sweet a + little gal, as mindful of her old father, as you'll find in all New + England. Neighbour Jephson's son, she's been my all in all to me, this + little gal, since I laid her mother in the ground five Christmases ago—" + The speaker is slightly overcome and leans against a cardboard clock for + strength: he recovers and goes on—"Hope, this is Neighbour Jephson's + son, new back from over the seas, as fine a lad, gal, if he's like the + folk that went before him, as ever followed the sea. Hope, your hand. My + boy, your hand. See to his comfort, Hope, while I go and read the Good + Book a spell in the barnyard." + </p> + <p> + The Indian Formula + </p> + <p> + Many people, tired of the empty phrases of society, look back wistfully to + the simple direct speech of savage life. Such persons will find useful the + usual form of introduction (the shorter form) prevalent among our North + American Indians (at least as gathered from the best literary model): + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "Friends and comrades who are worthy, + See and look with all your eyesight, + Listen with your sense of hearing, + Gather with your apprehension— + Bow your heads, O trees, and hearken. + Hush thy rustling, corn, and listen; + Turn thine ear and give attention; + Ripples of the running water, + Pause a moment in your channels— + Here I bring you,—Hiawatha." +</pre> + <p> + The last line of this can be changed to suit the particular case. It can + just as easily read, at the end, "Here is Henry Edward Eastwood," or, + "Here is Hal McGiverin, Junior," or anything else. All names fit the + sense. That, in fact, was the wonderful art of Longfellow—the sense + being independent of the words. + </p> + <p> + The Platform Introduction + </p> + <p> + Here is a form of introduction cruelly familiar to those who know it. It + is used by the sour-looking villain facetiously called in newspaper + reports the "genial chairman" of the meeting. While he is saying it the + victim in his little chair on the platform is a target for the eyes of a + thousand people who are wondering why he wears odd socks. + </p> + <p> + "The next speaker, ladies and gentlemen, is one who needs no introduction + to this gathering. His name" (here the chairman consults a little card) + "is one that has become a household word. His achievements in" (here the + chairman looks at his card again, studies it, turns it upside down and + adds) "in many directions are familiar to all of you." There is a feeble + attempt at applause and the chairman then lifts his hand and says in a + plain business-like tone—"Will those of the audience who are leaving + kindly step as lightly as possible." He is about to sit down, but then + adds as a pleasant afterthought for the speaker to brood over—"I may + say, while I am on my feet, that next week our society is to have a REAL + treat in hearing—et cetera and so forth—" + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II—HOW TO OPEN A CONVERSATION + </h2> + <p> + After the ceremony of introduction is completed the next thing to consider + is the proper way to open a conversation. The beginning of conversation is + really the hardest part. It is the social equivalent to "going over the + top." It may best be studied in the setting and surroundings of the + Evening Reception, where people stand upright and agonise, balancing a + dish of ice-cream. Here conversation reaches its highest pitch of social + importance. One must talk or die. Something may be done to stave it off a + little by vigorous eating. But the food at such affairs is limited. There + comes a point when it is absolutely necessary to say something. + </p> + <p> + The beginning, as I say, is the hardest problem. Other communities solve + it better than we do. + </p> + <p> + The Chinese System + </p> + <p> + In China conversation, between strangers after introduction, is always + opened by the question, "And how old are YOU?" This strikes me as + singularly apt and sensible. Here is the one thing that is common ground + between any two people, high or low, rich or poor—how far are you on + your pilgrimage in life? + </p> + <p> + The Penetentiary Method + </p> + <p> + Compare with the Chinese method the grim, but very significant formula + that is employed (I believe it is a literal fact) in the exercise yards of + the American penitentiaries. "What have YOU brought?" asks the San Quentin + or Sing Sing convict of the new arrival, meaning, "And how long is your + sentence?" There is the same human touch about this, the same common + ground of interest, as in the Chinese formula. + </p> + <p> + Polite Society + </p> + <p> + But in our polite society we have as yet found no better method than + beginning with a sort of medical diagnosis—"How do you do?" This + admits of no answer. Convention forbids us to reply in detail that we are + feeling if anything slightly lower than last week, but that though our + temperature has risen from ninety-one-fifty to ninety-one-seventy-five, + our respiration is still normal. + </p> + <p> + Still worse is the weather as an opening topic. For it either begins and + ends as abruptly as the medical diagnosis, or it leads the two talkers on + into a long and miserable discussion of the weather of yesterday, of the + day before yesterday, of last month, of last year and the last fifty + years. + </p> + <p> + Let one beware, however, of a conversation that begins too easily. + </p> + <p> + The Mutual Friends' Opening + </p> + <p> + This can be seen at any evening reception, as when the hostess introduces + two people who are supposed to have some special link to unite them at + once with an instantaneous snap, as when, for instance, they both come + from the same town. + </p> + <p> + "Let me introduce Mr. Sedley," said the hostess. "I think you and Mr. + Sedley are from the same town, Miss Smiles. Miss Smiles, Mr. Sedley." + </p> + <p> + Off they go at a gallop. "I'm so delighted to meet you," says Mr. Sedley. + "It's good to hear from anybody who comes from our little town." (If he's + a rollicking humourist, Mr. Sedley calls it his little old "burg.") + </p> + <p> + "Oh, yes," answers Miss Smiles. "I'm from Winnipeg too. I was so anxious + to meet you to ask if you knew the McGowans. They're my greatest friends + at home." + </p> + <p> + "The—who?" asks Mr. Sedley. + </p> + <p> + "The McGowans—on Selkirk Avenue." + </p> + <p> + "No-o, I don't think I do. I know the Prices on Selkirk Avenue. Of course + you know them." + </p> + <p> + "The Prices? No, I don't believe I do—I don't think I ever heard of + the Prices. You don't mean the Pearsons? I know them very well." + </p> + <p> + "No, I don't know the Pearsons. The Prices live just near the reservoir." + </p> + <p> + "No, then I'm sure I don't know them. The Pearsons live close to the + college." + </p> + <p> + "Close to the College? Is it near the William Kennedys?" + </p> + <p> + "I don't think I know the William Kennedys." + </p> + <p> + This is the way the conversation goes on for ten minutes. Both Mr. Sedley + and Miss Smiles are getting desperate. Their faces are fixed. Their + sentences are reduced to— + </p> + <p> + "Do you know the Petersons?" + </p> + <p> + "No. Do you know the Appleby's?" + </p> + <p> + "No. Do you know the Willie Johnsons?" + </p> + <p> + "No." + </p> + <p> + Then at last comes a rift in the clouds. One of them happens to mention + Beverley Dixon. The other is able to cry exultingly— + </p> + <p> + "Beverley Dixon? Oh, yes, rather. At least, I don't KNOW him, but I used + often to hear the Applebys speak of him." + </p> + <p> + And the other exclaims with equal delight— + </p> + <p> + "I don't know him very well either, but I used to hear the Willie Johnsons + talk about him all the time." + </p> + <p> + They are saved. + </p> + <p> + Half an hour after they are still standing there talking of Beverly Dixon. + </p> + <p> + The Etiquette Book + </p> + <p> + Personally I have suffered so much from inability to begin a conversation + that not long ago I took the extreme step of buying a book on the subject. + I regret to say that I got but little light or help from it. It was + written by the Comtesse de Z—. According to the preface the Comtesse + had "moved in the highest circles of all the European capitals." If so, + let her go on moving there. I for one, after trying her book, shall never + stop her. This is how the Comtesse solves the problem of opening a + conversation: + </p> + <p> + "In commencing a conversation, the greatest care should be devoted to the + selection of a topic, good taste demanding that one should sedulously + avoid any subject of which one's vis-a-vis may be in ignorance. Nor are + the mere words alone to be considered. In the art of conversation much + depends upon manner. The true conversationalist must, in opening, invest + himself with an atmosphere of interest and solicitude. He must, as we say + in French, be prepared to payer les rais de la conversation. In short, he + must 'give himself an air.'" + </p> + <p> + There! Go and do it if you can. I admit that I can't. I have no idea what + the French phrase above means, but I know that personally I cannot "invest + myself with an atmosphere of interest." I might manage about two per cent + on five hundred dollars. But what is that in these days of plutocracy? + </p> + <p> + At any rate I tried the Comtesse's directions at a reception last week, on + being introduced to an unknown lady. And they failed. I cut out nearly all + the last part, and confined myself merely to the proposed selection of a + topic, endeavouring to pick it with as much care as if I were selecting a + golf club out of a bag. Naturally I had to confine myself to the few + topics that I know about, and on which I can be quite interesting if I get + started. + </p> + <p> + "Do you know any mathematics?" I asked. + </p> + <p> + "No," said the lady. + </p> + <p> + This was too bad. I could have shown her some good puzzles about the + squares of the prime numbers up to forty-one. + </p> + <p> + I paused and gave myself more air. + </p> + <p> + "How are you," I asked, "on hydrostatics?" + </p> + <p> + "I beg your pardon," she said. Evidently she was ignorant again. + </p> + <p> + "Have you ever studied the principles of aerial navigation?" I asked. + </p> + <p> + "No," She answered. + </p> + <p> + I was pausing again and trying to invest myself with an air of further + interest, when another man was introduced to her, quite evidently, from + his appearance, a vapid jackass without one tenth of the brain calibre + that I have. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, how do you do?" he said. "I say, I've just heard that Harvard beat + Princeton this afternoon. Great, isn't it?" + </p> + <p> + In two minutes they were talking like old friends. How do these silly + asses do it? + </p> + <p> + When Dressed Hogs are Dull + </p> + <p> + An equally unsuccessful type of conversation, often overheard at + receptions, is where one of the two parties to it is too surly, too + stupid, or too self-important and too rich to talk, and the other labours + in vain. + </p> + <p> + The surly one is, let us say, a middle-aged, thick-set man of the type + that anybody recognizes under the name Money Hog. This kind of person, as + viewed standing in his dress suit, mannerless and stupid, too rich to have + to talk and too dull to know how to, always recalls to my mind the + head-line of the market reports in the newspapers, "Dressed Hogs are + Dull." + </p> + <p> + The other party to the conversation is a winsome and agreeable woman, + trying her best to do her social duty. + </p> + <p> + But, tenez, as the Comtesse of Z—— would say, I can exactly + illustrate the position and attitude of the two of them from a + recollection of my childhood. I remember that in one of my nursery books + of forty years ago there was a picture entitled "The Lady in Love With A + Swine." A willowy lady in a shimmering gown leaned over the rail of a + tessellated pig-sty, in which an impossibly clean hog stood in an attitude + of ill-mannered immobility. With the picture was the rhyming legend, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + There was a Lady in love with a swine, + "Honey," said she, "will you be mine? + I'll build you a silver sty + And in it you shall lie." + "Honk!" said He. +</pre> + <p> + There was something, as I recall it, in the sweet willingness of the Lady + that was singularly appealing, and contrasted with the dull mannerless + passivity of the swine. + </p> + <p> + In each of the little stanzas that followed, the pretty advances of the + Lady were rebuffed by a surly and monosyllabic "honk" from the hog. + </p> + <p> + Here is the social counterpart of the scene in the picture-book. Mr. + Grunt, capitalist, is standing in his tessellated sty,—the + tessellated sty being represented by the hardwood floor of a fashionable + drawing-room. His face is just the same as the face of the pig in the + picture-book. The willowy lady, in the same shimmering clothes and with + the same pretty expression of eagerness, is beside him. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, Mr. Grunt," she is saying, "how interesting it must be to be in your + place and feel such tremendous power. Our hostess was just telling me that + you own practically all the shoemaking machinery factories—it IS + shoe-making machinery, isn't it?—east of Pennsylvania." + </p> + <p> + "Honk!" says Mr. Grunt. + </p> + <p> + "Shoe-making machinery," goes on the willowy lady (she really knows + nothing and cares less about it) "must be absolutely fascinating, is it + not?" + </p> + <p> + "Honk!" says Mr. Grunt. + </p> + <p> + "But still you must find it sometimes a dreadful strain, do you not? I + mean, so much brain work, and that sort of thing." + </p> + <p> + "Honk!" says Mr. Grunt. + </p> + <p> + "I should love so much to see one of your factories. They must be so + interesting." + </p> + <p> + "Honk!" says Mr. Grunt. Then he turns and moves away sideways. Into his + little piggy eyes has come a fear that the lady is going to ask him to + subscribe to something, or wants a block of his common stock, or his name + on a board of directors. So he leaves her. Yet if he had known it she is + probably as rich as he is, or richer, and hasn't the faintest interest in + his factories, and never intends to go near one. Only she is fit to move + and converse in polite society and Mr. Grunt is not. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + 2.—Heroes and Heroines + </h2> + <p> + "What are you reading?" I asked the other day of a blue-eyed boy of ten + curled up among the sofa cushions. + </p> + <p> + He held out the book for me to see. + </p> + <p> + "Dauntless Ned among the Cannibals," he answered. + </p> + <p> + "Is it exciting?" I enquired. + </p> + <p> + "Not very," said the child in a matter-of-fact tone. "But it's not bad." + </p> + <p> + I took the book from him and read aloud at the opened page. + </p> + <p> + "In a compact mass the gigantic savages rushed upon our hero, shrieking + with rage and brandishing their huge clubs. Ned stood his ground + fearlessly, his back to a banana tree. With a sweep of his cutlass he + severed the head of the leading savage from his body, while with a back + stroke of his dirk he stabbed another to the heart. But resistance against + such odds was vain. By sheer weight of numbers, Ned was borne to the + ground. His arms were then pinioned with stout ropes made of the fibres of + the boobooda tree. With shrieks of exultation the savages dragged our hero + to an opening in the woods where a huge fire was burning, over which was + suspended an enormous caldron of bubbling oil. 'Boil him, boil him,' + yelled the savages, now wrought to the point of frenzy." + </p> + <p> + "That seems fairly exciting, isn't it?" I said. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, he won't get boiled," said the little boy. "He's the hero." + </p> + <p> + So I knew that the child has already taken his first steps in the + disillusionment of fiction. + </p> + <p> + Of course he was quite right as to Ned. This wonderful youth, the hero + with whom we all begin an acquaintance with books, passes unhurt through a + thousand perils. Cannibals, Apache Indians, war, battles, shipwrecks, + leave him quite unscathed. At the most Ned gets a flesh wound which is + healed, in exactly one paragraph, by that wonderful drug called a + "simple." + </p> + <p> + But the most amazing thing about this particular hero, the boy Ned, is the + way in which he turns up in all the great battles and leading events of + the world. + </p> + <p> + It was Ned, for example, who at the critical moment at Gettysburg turned + in his saddle to General Meade and said quietly, "General, the day is + ours." "If it is," answered Meade, as he folded his field glass, "you + alone, Ned, have saved it." + </p> + <p> + In the same way Ned was present at the crossing of the Delaware with + Washington. Thus:— + </p> + <p> + "'What do you see, Ned?' said Washington, as they peered from the leading + boat into the driving snow. + </p> + <p> + "'Ice,' said Ned. 'My boy,' said the Great American General, and a tear + froze upon his face as he spoke, 'you have saved us all.'" + </p> + <p> + Here is Ned at Runningmede when King John with his pen in hand was about + to sign the Magna Carta. + </p> + <p> + "For a moment the King paused irresolute, the uplifted quill in his hand, + while his crafty, furtive eyes indicated that he might yet break his + plighted faith with the assembled barons. + </p> + <p> + "Ned laid his mailed hand upon the parchment. + </p> + <p> + "'Sign it,' he said sternly, 'or take the consequences.' + </p> + <p> + "The King signed. + </p> + <p> + "'Ned,' said the Baron de Bohun, as he removed his iron vizor from his + bronze face, 'thou hast this day saved all England.'" + </p> + <p> + In the stories of our boyhood in which Ned figured, there was no such + thing as a heroine, or practically none. At best she was brought in as an + afterthought. It was announced on page three hundred and one that at the + close of Ned's desperate adventures in the West Indies he married the + beautiful daughter of Don Diego, the Spanish governor of Portobello; or + else, at the end of the great war with Napoleon, that he married a + beautiful and accomplished French girl whose parents had perished in the + Revolution. + </p> + <p> + Ned generally married away from home. In fact his marriages were intended + to cement the nations, torn asunder by Ned's military career. But + sometimes he returned to his native town, all sunburned, scarred and + bronzed from battle (the bronzing effect of being in battle is always + noted): he had changed from a boy to a man: that is, from a boy of fifteen + to a man of sixteen. In such a case Ned marries in his own home town. It + is done after this fashion: + </p> + <p> + "But who is this who advances smiling to greet him as he crosses the + familiar threshold of the dear old house? Can this tall, beautiful girl be + Gwendoline, the child-playmate of his boyhood?" + </p> + <p> + Well, can it? I ask it of every experienced reader—can it or can it + not? + </p> + <p> + Ned had his day, in the boyhood of each of us. We presently passed him by. + I am speaking, of course, of those of us who are of maturer years and can + look back upon thirty or forty years of fiction reading. "Ned," flourishes + still, I understand, among the children of today. But now he flies in + aeroplanes, and dives in submarines, and gives his invaluable military + advice to General Joffre and General Pershing. + </p> + <p> + But with the oncoming of adolescent years something softer was needed than + Ned with his howling cannibals and his fusillade of revolver shots. + </p> + <p> + So the "Ned" of the Adventure Books was supplanted by the Romantic Heroine + of the Victorian Age and the Long-winded Immaculate who accompanied her as + the Hero. + </p> + <p> + I do not know when these two first opened their twin career. Whether + Fenimore Cooper or Walter Scott began them, I cannot say. But they had an + undisputed run on two continents for half a century. + </p> + <p> + This Heroine was a sylph. Her chiefest charm lay in her physical + feebleness. She was generally presented to us in some such words as these: + </p> + <p> + "Let us now introduce to our readers the fair Madeline of Rokewood. + Slender and graceful and of a form so fragile that her frame scarce fitted + to fulfil its bodily functions...she appeared rather as one of those + ethereal beings of the air who might visit for a brief moment this + terrestrial scene, than one of its earthly inhabitants. Her large, + wondering eyes looked upon the beholder in childlike innocence." + </p> + <p> + Sounds simple, doesn't it? One might suspect there was something wrong + with the girl's brain. But listen to this:— + </p> + <p> + "The mind of Madeline, elegantly formed by the devoted labours of the + venerable Abbe, her tutor, was of a degree of culture rarely found in one + so young. Though scarce eighteen summers had flown over her head at the + time when we introduce her to our readers, she was intimately conversant + with the French, Italian, Spanish, and Provencal tongues. The abundant + pages of history, both ancient and modern, sacred and profane, had been + opened for her by her devoted instructor. In music she played with + exquisite grace and accuracy upon both the spinet and the harpsichord, + while her voice, though lacking something in compass, was sweet and + melodious to a degree." + </p> + <p> + From such a list of accomplishments it is clear that Madeline could have + matriculated, even at the Harvard Law School, with five minutes + preparation. Is it any wonder that there was a wild rush for Madeline? In + fact, right after the opening description of the Heroine, there follows an + ominous sentence such as this:— + </p> + <p> + "It was this exquisite being whose person Lord Rip de Viperous, a man + whose reputation had shamed even the most licentious court of the age, and + had led to his banishment from the presence of the king, had sworn to get + within his power." + </p> + <p> + Personally I don't blame Lord Rip a particle; it must have been very rough + on him to have been banished from the presence of the king—enough to + inflame a man to do anything. + </p> + <p> + With two such characters in the story, the scene was set and the plot and + adventures followed as a matter of course. Lord Rip de Viperous pursued + the Heroine. But at every step he is frustrated. He decoys Madeline to a + ruined tower at midnight, her innocence being such and the gaps left in + her education by the Abbe being so wide, that she is unaware of the danger + of ruined towers after ten thirty P.M. In fact, "tempted by the exquisite + clarity and fulness of the moon, which magnificent orb at this season + spread its widest effulgence over all nature, she accepts the invitation + of her would-be-betrayer to gather upon the battlements of the ruined keep + the strawberries which grew there in wild profusion." + </p> + <p> + But at the critical moment, Lord de Viperous is balked. At the very + instant when he is about to seize her in his arms, Madeline turns upon him + and says in such icy tones, "Titled villain that you are, unhand me," that + the man is "cowed." He slinks down the ruined stairway "cowed." And at + every later turn, at each renewed attempt, Madeline "cows" him in like + fashion. + </p> + <p> + Moreover while Lord de Viperous is being thus cowed by Madeline the + Heroine, he is also being "dogged" by the Hero. This counterpart of + Madeline who shared her popularity for fifty years can best be described + as the Long-winded Immaculate Hero. Entirely blameless in his morals, and + utterly virtuous in his conduct, he possessed at least one means of + defending himself. He could make speeches. This he did on all occasions. + With these speeches he "dogged" Lord de Viperous. Here is the style of + them:— + </p> + <p> + "'My Lord,' said Markham..." (incidentally let it be explained that this + particular brand of hero was always known by his surname and his surname + was always Markham) —"'My lord, the sentiments that you express and + the demeanour which you have evinced are so greatly at variance with the + title that you bear and the lineage of which you spring that no authority + that you can exercise and no threats that you are able to command shall + deter me from expressing that for which, however poor and inadequate my + powers of speech, all these of whom and for what I am what I am, shall + answer to it for the integrity of that, which, whether or not, is at least + as it is. My lord, I have done. Or shall I speak more plainly still?'" + </p> + <p> + Is it to be wondered that after this harangue Lord Rip sank into a chair, + a hideous convulsion upon his face, murmuring—"It is enough." + </p> + <p> + But successful as they were as Hero and Heroine, Markham and Madeline + presently passed off the scene. Where they went to, I do not know. Perhaps + Markham got elected in the legislature of Massachusetts. At any rate they + disappeared from fiction. + </p> + <p> + There followed in place of Madeline, the athletic sunburned heroine with + the tennis racket. She was generally called Kate Middleton, or some such + plain, straightforward designation. She wore strong walking boots and + leather leggings. She ate beef steak. She shot with a rifle. For a while + this Boots and Beef Heroine (of the middle nineties) made a tremendous + hit. She climbed crags in the Rockies. She threw steers in Colorado with a + lariat. She came out strong in sea scenes and shipwrecks, and on sinking + steamers, where she "cowed" the trembling stewards and "dogged" the + mutinous sailors in the same fashion that Madeline used to "cow" and "dog" + Lord Rip de Viperous. + </p> + <p> + With the Boots and Beef Heroine went as her running mate the out-of-doors + man, whose face had been tanned and whose muscles had been hardened into + tempered steel in wild rides over the Pampas of Patagonia, and who had + learned every art and craft of savage life by living among the wild + Hoodoos of the Himalayas. This Air-and-Grass-man, as he may be called, is + generally supposed to write the story... He was "I" all through. And he + had an irritating modesty in speaking of his own prowess. Instead of + saying straight out that he was the strongest and bravest man in the + world, he implied it indirectly on every page. + </p> + <p> + Here, for example, is a typical scene in which "I" and Kate figure in a + desperate adventure in the Rocky Mountains, pursued by Indians. + </p> + <p> + "We are about to descend on a single cord from the summit of a lofty crag, + our sole chance of escape (and a frightfully small chance at that) from + the roving band of Apaches. + </p> + <p> + "With my eye I measured the fearsome descent below us. + </p> + <p> + "'Hold fast to the line, Miss Middleton,' I said as I set my foot against + a projecting rock. (Please note that the Air-and-Grass Hero in these + stories always calls the Heroine Miss Middleton right up to the very end.) + </p> + <p> + "The noble girl seized the knotted end of the buckskin line. 'All right, + Mr. Smith,' she said with quiet confidence. + </p> + <p> + "I braced myself for the effort. My muscles like tempered steel responded + to the strain. I lowered a hundred fathoms of the line. I could already + hear the voice of Kate far down the cliff. + </p> + <p> + "Don't let go the line, Miss Middleton,' I called. (Here was an excellent + piece of advice.) + </p> + <p> + "The girl's clear voice floated up to me... 'All right, Mr. Smith,' she + called, 'I won't.'" + </p> + <p> + Of course they landed safely at the foot of the cliff, after the manner of + all heroes and heroines. And here it is that Kate in her turn comes out + strong, at the evening encampment, frying bacon over a blazing fire of + pine branches, while the firelight illuminates her leather leggings and + her rough but picturesque costume. + </p> + <p> + The circumstances might seem a little daring and improper. But the reader + knows that it is all right, because the hero and heroine always call one + another Miss Middleton and Mr. Smith. + </p> + <p> + Not till right at the end, when they are just getting back again to the + confines of civilization, do they depart from this. + </p> + <p> + Here is the scene that happens... The hero and heroine are on the platform + of the way-side depot where they are to part... Kate to return to the + luxurious home of her aunt, Mrs. van der Kyper of New York, and the + Air-and-Grass Man to start for the pampas of Patagonia to hunt the hoopoo. + The Air-and-Grass Man is about to say goodbye. Then... "'Kate,' I said, as + I held the noble girl's gloved hand in mine a moment. She looked me in the + face with the full, frank, fearless gaze of a sister. + </p> + <p> + "'Yes?' she answered. + </p> + <p> + "'Kate,' I repeated, 'do you know what I was thinking of when I held the + line while you were half way down the cliff?' + </p> + <p> + "'No,' she murmured, while a flush suffused her cheek. + </p> + <p> + "'I was thinking, Kate,' I said, 'that if the rope broke I should be very + sorry.' + </p> + <p> + "'Edward!' she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + "I clasped her in my arms. + </p> + <p> + "'Shall I make a confession,' said Kate, looking up timidly, half an hour + later, as I tenderly unclasped the noble girl from my encircling arms, + ...'I was thinking the same thing too.'" + </p> + <p> + So Kate and Edward had their day and then, as Tennyson says, they + "passed," or as less cultivated people put it, "they were passed up in the + air." + </p> + <p> + As the years went by they failed to please. Kate was a great improvement + upon Madeline. But she wouldn't do. The truth was, if one may state it + openly, Kate wasn't TOUGH enough. In fact she wasn't tough at all. She + turned out to be in reality just as proper and just as virtuous as + Madeline. + </p> + <p> + So, too, with the Air-and-Grass Hero. For all of his tempered muscles and + his lariat and his Winchester rifle, he was presently exposed as a fraud. + He was just as Long-winded and just as Immaculate as the Victorian Hero + that he displaced. + </p> + <p> + What the public really wants and has always wanted in its books is + wickedness. Fiction was recognised in its infancy as being a work of the + devil. + </p> + <p> + So the popular novel, despairing of real wickedness among the cannibals, + and in the ruined tower at midnight, and on the open-air of the prairies, + shifted its scenes again. It came indoors. It came back to the city. And + it gave us the new crop of heroes and heroines and the scenes and settings + with which the fiction of to-day has replaced the Heroes and Heroines of + Yesterday. The Lure of the City is its theme. It pursues its course to the + music of the ukalele, in the strident racket of the midnight cabaret. Here + move the Harvard graduate in his dinner jacket, drunk at one in the + morning. Here is the hard face of Big Business scowling at its desk; and + here the glittering Heroine of the hour in her dress of shimmering + sequins, making such tepid creatures as Madeline and Kate look like the + small change out of a twenty-five cent shinplaster. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + 3.—The Discovery of America; + </h2> + <h3> + Being Done into Moving Pictures and Out Again + </h3> + <p> + "No greater power for education," said President Shurman the other day, + "has come among us during the last forty years than the moving picture." + </p> + <p> + I am not certain that it was President Shurman. And he may not have said + it the other day. Nor do I feel absolutely sure that he referred to the + LAST forty years. Indeed now that I come to think of it, I don't believe + it WAS Shurman. In fact it may have been ex-President Eliot. Or was it, + perhaps, President Hadley of Yale? Or did I say it myself? Judging by the + accuracy and force of the language, I think I must have. I doubt if + Shurman or Hadley could have put it quite so neatly. There's a touch about + it that I recognise. + </p> + <p> + But let that pass. At any rate it is something that everybody is saying + and thinking. All our educators have turned their brains towards the + possibility of utilising moving pictures for the purpose of education. It + is being freely said that history and geography, and even arithmetic, + instead of being taught by the slow and painful process of books and + memory, can be imparted through the eye. + </p> + <p> + I had no sooner heard of this idea than I became impassioned to put it + into practice. I have therefore prepared, or am preparing, a film, + especially designed for the elementary classes of our schools to narrate + the story of the discovery of America. + </p> + <p> + This I should like the reader to sit and see with me, in the eye of his + imagination. But let me first give the plain, unvarnished account of the + discovery of America as I took it from one of our school histories. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + "Christopher Columbus, otherwise Christoforo Colombo, + the celebrated discoverer of America, was born of poor + but honest parents in the Italian city of Genoa. His + mother, Teresa Colombo, seems to have been a woman of + great piety and intelligence. Of his father, Bartolomeo + Colombo, nothing is recorded. From his earliest youth + the boy Christopher developed a passion for mathematics, + astronomy, geodesy, and the other sciences of the + day..." +</pre> + <p> + But, no,—stop! I am going too fast. The reader will get it better if + we turn it into pictures bit by bit as we go on. Let the reader therefore + imagine himself seated before the curtain in the lighted theatre. All + ready? Very good. Let the music begin—Star Spangled Banner, please—flip + off the lights. Now then. + </p> + <p> + DISCOVERY OF AMERICA AUTHORIZED BY THE BOARD OF CENSORS OF NEW YORK STATE + </p> + <p> + There we are. That gives the child the correct historical background right + away. Now what goes on next? Let me see. Ah, yes, of course. We throw an + announcement on the screen, thus. + </p> + <p> + CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS.. Mr. Quinn + </p> + <p> + Here the face of Mr. Quinn (in a bowler hat) is thrown on the screen and + fades out again. + </p> + <p> + We follow him up with + </p> + <p> + SPIRIT OF AMERICA.. Miss E. Dickenson + </p> + <p> + Now, we are ready to begin in earnest. Let us make the scenario together. + First idea to be expressed: + </p> + <p> + "Christopher Columbus was the son of poor but honest parents." + </p> + <p> + This might seem difficult to a beginner, but to those of us who frequent + the movies it is nothing. The reel spins and we see—a narrow room—(it + is always narrow in the movies)—to indicate straitened circumstances—cardboard + furniture—high chairs with carved backs—two cardboard beams + across the ceiling (all this means the Middle Ages)—a long dinner + table—all the little Columbuses seated at it—Teresa Colombo + cutting bread at one end of it—gives a slice to each, one slice + (that means poverty in the movies)—Teresa rolls her eyes up—all + the little children put their hands together and say grace (this registers + honesty). The thing is done. Let us turn back to the history book and see + what is to be put in next. + </p> + <p> + "...The father of Christopher, Bartolomeo Colombo, was a man of no + especial talent of whom nothing is recorded." + </p> + <p> + That's easy. First we announce him on the screen: + </p> + <p> + BARTOLOMEO COLOMBO.. Mr. Henderson + </p> + <p> + Then we stick him on the film on a corner of the room, leaning up against + the cardboard clock and looking at the children. This attitude in the + movies always indicates a secondary character of no importance. His + business is to look at the others and to indicate forgetfulness of self, + incompetence, unimportance, vacuity, simplicity. Note how this differs + from the attitudes of important characters. If a movie character—one + of importance—is plotting or scheming, he seats himself at a little + round table, drums on it with his fingers, and half closes one eye. If he + is being talked to, or having a letter or document or telegram read to + him, he stands "facing full" and working his features up and down to + indicate emotion sweeping over them. If he is being "exposed" (which is + done by pointing fingers at him), he hunches up like a snake in an angle + of the room with both eyes half shut and his mouth set as if he had just + eaten a lemon. But if he has none of these things to express and is only + in the scene as a background for the others, then he goes over and leans + in an easy attitude against the tall cardboard clock. + </p> + <p> + That then is the place for Bartolomeo Colombo. To the clock with him. + </p> + <p> + Now what comes next? + </p> + <p> + "...The young Christopher developed at an early age a passion for study, + and especially for astronomy, geometry, geodesy, and the exact science of + the day." + </p> + <p> + Quite easy. On spins the film. Young Christopher in a garret room (all + movie study is done in garrets). The cardboard ceiling slopes within six + inches of his head. This shows that the boy never rises from his books. He + can't. On a table in front of him is a little globe and a pair of + compasses. Christopher spins the globe round. Then he makes two circles + with the compasses, one after the other, very carefully. This is the + recognised movie symbol for mathematical research. + </p> + <p> + So there we have Christopher—poor, honest, studious, full of + circles. + </p> + <p> + Now to the book again. + </p> + <p> + "...The young Columbus received his education at the monastery of the + Franciscan monks at Genoa. Here he spent seven years." + </p> + <p> + Yes, but we can put that on the screen in seven seconds. + </p> + <p> + Turn on the film. + </p> + <p> + Movie Monastery—exterior, done in grey cardboard—ding, dong, + ding, dong (man in the orchestra with triangle and stick)—procession + of movie friars—faces more like thugs, but never mind—they are + friars because they walk two and two in a procession, singing out of hymn + books. + </p> + <p> + Now for the book again. + </p> + <p> + "...Fra Giacomo, the prior of the monastery, delighted with the boy's + progress, encourages his studies." + </p> + <p> + Wait a minute. + </p> + <p> + FRA GIACOMO... Mr. Edward Sims + </p> + <p> + Mr. Sims's face, clean-shaved under a round hat fades in and out. Then the + picture goes on. Movie monastery interior—young Christopher, still + at a table with compasses—benevolent friar bending over him—Christopher + turns the compasses and looks up with a what-do-you-know-about-that look—astonishment + and delight of friar (registered by opening his eyes like a bull frog). + All this shows study, progress, application. The friars are delighted with + the boy. + </p> + <p> + "...Christopher, after seven years of study, reaches the firm conviction + that the world is round." + </p> + <p> + Picture. Christopher—with his globe—jumps up from table—passes + his fingers round and round the globe—registers the joy of invention—seats + himself at table and draws circles with his compasses furiously. He fades + out. + </p> + <p> + "...Fired with his discovery Christopher sets out from the monastery." + </p> + <p> + Stop a minute, this is a little hard. Fired. How can we show Christopher + "fired." We can't. Perhaps he'll be fired if the film is no good, but we + must omit it just now. + </p> + <p> + "He sets out." + </p> + <p> + One second only for this. Monastery door (double cardboard with iron + across it)—Christopher leaving—carries a wallet to mean + distance. Fra Giacomo blessing him—fade out. + </p> + <p> + "...For eighteen years Columbus vainly travelled through the world on foot + offering his discovery at the courts of Europe, in vain, though asking + nothing in return for it except a fleet of ships, two hundred men and + provisions for two years." + </p> + <p> + To anybody not used to scenarios this looks a large order. Eighteen years + seems difficult to put on the screen. In reality this is exactly where the + trained movie man sees his chance. Here he can put in anything and + everything that he likes, bringing in, in a slightly mediaeval form, all + his favourite movie scenes. + </p> + <p> + Thus, for example, here we have first the good old midnight cabaret supper + scene—thinly disguised as the court of the King of Sardinia. To turn + a cabaret into a court the movie men merely exchange their Fifth Avenue + evening dress for short coats and knee breeches, heavily wadded and + quilted, and wear large wigs. Quilted pants and wigs register courtiers, + the courtiers of anybody—Charlemagne, Queen Elizabeth, Peter the + Great, Louis Quatorze, anybody and everybody who ever had courtiers. Just + as men with bare legs mean Romans, men in pea-jackets mean detectives, and + young men drunk in evening dress Harvard graduates. + </p> + <p> + The ladies at the court of Sardinia wear huge paper frills round their + necks. Otherwise it is the cabaret scene with the familiar little tables, + and the ukaleles going like mad in one corner, and black sarsaparilla + being poured foaming into the glasses. + </p> + <p> + In this scene Columbus moves up and down, twirling his little globe and + looking appealingly in their faces. All laugh at him. His part is just the + same as that of the poor little girl trying to sell up-state violets in + the midnight cabaret. + </p> + <p> + The Court of Sardinia fades and the film shows Columbus vainly soliciting + financial aid from Lorenzo the Magnificent. + </p> + <p> + Stop one minute, please. + </p> + <p> + LORENZO THE MAGNIFICENT... Mr. L. Evans + </p> + <p> + This scene again is old and familiar. It is the well-known interior + representing the Grinding Capitalist, or the Bitter Banker refusing aid to + the boy genius who has invented a patent pea-rake. The only change is that + Lorenzo wears a huge wig, has no telephone, and handles a large quill pen + (to register Middle Ages) which he wiggles furiously up and down on a + piece of parchment. + </p> + <p> + So the eighteen years, with scenes of this sort turn out the easiest part + of the whole show. + </p> + <p> + But let us to the book again. + </p> + <p> + "...After eighteen years Columbus, now past the prime of life, is + presented at the Court of Queen Isabella of Spain." + </p> + <p> + Just half a moment. + </p> + <p> + QUEEN ISABELLA.. Miss Janet Briggs + </p> + <p> + There will be very probably at this point a slight applause from the back + of the hall. Miss Briggs was here last week, or her astral body was—as + Maggie of the Cattle Ranges. The impression that she made is passed on to + Isabella. + </p> + <p> + "The Queen and her consort, King Ferdinand of Aragon..." + </p> + <p> + Stop, stick him on the film. + </p> + <p> + FERDINAND OF ARAGON.. Mr. Edward Giles + </p> + <p> + (Large wig, flat velvet cap and square whiskers—same make-up as for + Ferdinand of Bulgaria, Ferdinand of Bohemia, or any of the Ferdinands.) + </p> + <p> + "...were immediately seized with enthusiasm for the marvellous discovery + of the Genoese adventurer." + </p> + <p> + Picture. Columbus hands his globe to Isabella and his compasses to + Ferdinand. They register delight and astonishment. The Queen turns the + globe round and round and holds it up to Ferdinand. Both indicate with + their faces, well-what-do-you-know-about-this. Ferdinand makes a circle + with the compasses on a table—the courtiers, fickle creatures, crowd + around. They are still dressed as in Sardinia eighteen years ago. In fact, + one recognises quite a lot of them. When Ferdinand draws the circle they + fall back in wild astonishment, gesticulating frantically. What they mean + is, "It's a circle, it's a circle." + </p> + <p> + "The King and Queen at once place three ships at the disposal of + Columbus." + </p> + <p> + On with the picture. The harbour of the port of Palos— ships bobbing + up and down (it is really the oyster boats in Baltimore Bay but it looks + just like Palos, or near enough). Notice Queen Isabella on the right, at + the top of a flight of steps, extending her hand and looking at Columbus. + Her gesture means, "Pick a ship, any ship you like, any colour." Just as + if she were saying, "Pick a card, any card you like." + </p> + <p> + We turn again to the history. + </p> + <p> + "...Christopher Columbus, now arrived at the height of his desire, sets + out upon his memorable voyage accompanied by a hundred companions in three + caravels, the Pinta, the Nina and the Espiritu Santo." + </p> + <p> + Ah, here we have the movie work—the real thing. Cardboard caravel + tossing on black water—seen first right close to us—we are + almost on board of it. Notice the movie sailors with black whiskers and + bare feet (bare feet in the movies always means a sailor, and black + whiskers mean Spaniards). Now we see the caravel a little way out—whoop! + How she bobs up and down! They give her that jolt (it's done with the + machine itself) to mean danger. There are all three caravels—Hoop—er—oo! + See them go up and down—stormy night coming all right. See the sun + setting in the west, over the water? They're heading straight for it. + Good-night Columbus—take care of yourself out there in the + blackness. + </p> + <p> + "During the voyage Columbus remained continually on deck. Sleeping at the + prow, his face towards the new world, he saw already in his dreams the + accomplishment of his hopes." + </p> + <p> + On goes the picture. Christopher in the prow of the caravel (in the movies + a prow is made by putting two little board fences together and propping up + a bowsprit lengthwise over them). Columbus sits up, peers intently into + the darkness, his hand to his brow—registers a look. Do I see + America? No. Lies down, shuts his eyes and falls into an instantaneous + movie sleep. His face fades out slowly to music, which means that he is + going to dream. Then on the screen the announcement is shown: + </p> + <p> + SPIRIT OF AMERICA... Miss E. Dickenson + </p> + <p> + and here we have Miss Dickenson floating in the air above Columbus. She + wears nothing except mosquito netting, but she has got on enough of it to + get past the censor of the State of New York. Just enough, apparently. + </p> + <p> + Miss E. Dickenson is joined by a whole troop of Miss Dickensons all in + white mosquito netting. They go through a series of beautiful evolutions, + floating over the sleeping figure of Columbus. The dance they do is meant + to typify, or rather to signify,—as a matter of fact we needn't + worry much about what it signified. It is an allegory, done in white + mosquito netting. That is generally held to be quite enough. Let us go + back to the book— + </p> + <p> + "After a storm-tossed voyage of three months..." + </p> + <p> + Wait a bit. Turn on the picture again and toss the caravels up and down. + </p> + <p> + "...during which the food supply threatened to fail..." + </p> + <p> + Put that on the screen, please. Columbus surrounded by ten sailors, + dividing up a potato. + </p> + <p> + "...the caravels arrived in safety at the beautiful island of San + Salvador. Columbus, bearing the banner of Spain, stepped first ashore. + Surrounded by a wondering crowd of savages he prostrated himself upon the + beach and kissed the soil of the New World that he had discovered." + </p> + <p> + All this is so easy that it's too easy. It runs into pictures of itself. + Anybody, accustomed to the movies, can see Columbus with his banner and + the movie savages hopping up and down around him. Movie savages are gay, + gladsome creatures anyway, and hopping up and down is their chief mode of + expressing themselves. Add to them a sandy beach, with palm trees waving + visibly in the wind (it is always windy in the movies) and the thing is + done. + </p> + <p> + Just one further picture is needed to complete the film. + </p> + <p> + "Columbus who returned to Europe to lay at the feet of the Spanish + sovereigns the world he had discovered, fell presently under the disfavour + of the court, and died in poverty and obscurity, a victim of the + ingratitude of princes." + </p> + <p> + Last picture. Columbus dying under the poignant circumstances known only + in the movies—a garret room—ceiling lower than ever—a + truckle bed, narrow enough to kill him if all else failed—Teresa + Colombo his aged mother alone at his bedside—she offers him medicine + in a long spoon—(this shows, if nothing else would, that the man is + ill)—he shakes his head—puts out his hand and rests it on the + little globe—reaches feebly for his compasses—can't manage it—rolls + up his eyes and fades. + </p> + <p> + The music plays softly and the inexorable film, like the reel of life + itself, spins on, announcing + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + At this theatre + All next week + + MAGGIE MAY + and + WALTER CURRAN + in + IS IT WORTH IT +</pre> + <p> + And after that I can imagine the audience dispersing, and the now educated + children going off to their homes and one saying as he enters— + </p> + <p> + "Gee, I seen a great picture show at school to-day." + </p> + <p> + "Yes?" says his mother, "and what was it?" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, it was all about a gink that went round the cabarets trying to sell + an invention what he'd got but nobody wouldn't look at it till at last one + dame gave him three oyster boats, see? and so he and a lot of other guys + loaded them up and hiked off across the ocean." + </p> + <p> + "And where did he go to?" + </p> + <p> + "Africa. And he and the other guys had a great stand in with the natives + and he'd have sold his invention all right but one old dame got him alone + in a hut and poisoned him and took it off him." + </p> + <p> + That, I think, is about the way the film would run. When it is finished I + must get President Shurman, or whoever it was, to come and see it. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + 4.—Politics from Within + </h2> + <p> + To avoid all error as to the point of view, let me say in commencing that + I am a Liberal Conservative, or, if you will, a Conservative Liberal with + a strong dash of sympathy with the Socialist idea, a friend of Labour, and + a believer in Progressive Radicalism. I do not desire office but would + take a seat in the Canadian Senate at five minutes notice. + </p> + <p> + I believe there are ever so many people of exactly this way of thinking. + </p> + <p> + Let me say further than in writing of "politics" I am only dealing with + the lights and shadows that flicker over the surface, and am not trying to + discuss, still less to decry, the deep and vital issues that lie below. + </p> + <p> + Yet I will say that vital though the issues may be below the surface, + there is more clap-trap, insincerity and humbug on the surface of politics + than over any equal area on the face of any institution. + </p> + <p> + The candidate, as such, is a humbug. The voters, as voters—not as + fathers, brothers or sons—are humbugs. The committees are humbugs. + And the speeches to the extent of about ninety per cent are pure buncombe. + But, oddly enough, out of the silly babel of talk that accompanies popular + government, we get, after all, pretty good government—infinitely + better than the government of an autocratic king. Between democracy and + despotic kingship lies all the difference between genial humbug and black + sin. + </p> + <p> + For the candidate for popular office I have nothing but sympathy and + sorrow. It has been my fortune to walk round at the heels of half a dozen + of them in different little Canadian towns, watching the candidate try in + vain to brighten up his face at the glad sight of a party voter. + </p> + <p> + One, in particular, I remember. Nature had meant him to be a sour man, a + hard man, a man with but little joy in the company of his fellows. Fate + had made him a candidate for the House of Commons. So he was doing his + best to belie his nature. + </p> + <p> + "Hullo, William!" he would call out as a man passed driving a horse and + buggy, "got the little sorrel out for a spin, eh?" + </p> + <p> + Then he would turn to me and say in a low rasping voice— + </p> + <p> + "There goes about the biggest skunk in this whole constituency." + </p> + <p> + A few minutes later he would wave his hand over a little hedge in friendly + salutation to a man working in a garden. + </p> + <p> + "Hullo, Jasper! That's a fine lot of corn you've got there." + </p> + <p> + Jasper replied in a growl. And when we were well past the house the + candidate would say between his teeth— + </p> + <p> + "That's about the meanest whelp in the riding." + </p> + <p> + Our conversation all down the street was of that pattern. + </p> + <p> + "Good morning, Edward! Giving the potatoes a dose of Paris green, eh?" + </p> + <p> + And in an undertone— + </p> + <p> + "I wish to Heaven he'd take a dose of it himself." + </p> + <p> + And so on from house to house. + </p> + <p> + I counted up, from one end of the street to the other, that there were + living in it seven skunks, fourteen low whelps, eight mean hounds and two + dirty skinflints. And all of these merely among the Conservative voters. + It made me wish to be a Liberal. Especially as the Liberal voters, by the + law of the perversity of human affairs, always seemed to be the finer lot. + As they were NOT voting for our candidate, they were able to meet him in a + fair and friendly way, whereas William and Jasper and Edward and our + "bunch" were always surly and hardly deigned to give more than a growl in + answer to the candidate's greeting, without even looking up at him. + </p> + <p> + But a Liberal voter would stop him in the street and shake hands and say + in a frank, cordial way. + </p> + <p> + "Mr. Grouch, I'm sorry indeed that I can't vote for you, and I'd like to + be able to wish you success, but of course you know I'm on the other side + and always have been and can't change now." + </p> + <p> + Whereupon the Candidate would say. "That's all right, John, I don't expect + you to. I can respect a man's convictions all right, I guess." + </p> + <p> + So they would part excellent friends, the Candidate saying as we moved + off: + </p> + <p> + "That man, John Winter, is one of the straightest men in this whole + county." + </p> + <p> + Then he would add— + </p> + <p> + "Now we'll just go into this house for a minute. There's a dirty pup in + here that's one of our supporters." + </p> + <p> + My opinion of our own supporters went lower every day, and my opinion of + the Liberal voters higher, till it so happened that I went one day to an + old friend of mine who was working on the Liberal side. I asked him how he + liked it. + </p> + <p> + "Oh, well enough!" he said, "as a sort of game. But in this constituency + you've got all the decent voters; our voters are the lowest bunch of + skunks I ever struck." + </p> + <p> + Just then a man passed in a buggy, and looked sourly at my friend the + Liberal worker. + </p> + <p> + "Hullo, John!" he called, with a manufactured hilarity, "got the little + mare out for a turn, eh?" + </p> + <p> + John grunted. + </p> + <p> + "There's one of them," said my friend, "the lowest pup in this county, + John Winter." + </p> + <p> + "Come along," said the Candidate to me one morning, "I want you to meet my + committee." + </p> + <p> + "You'll find them," he said confidingly, as we started down the street + towards the committee rooms, "an awful bunch of mutts." + </p> + <p> + "Too bad," I said, "what's wrong with them?" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, I don't know—they're just a pack of simps. They don't seem to + have any PUNCH in them. The one you'll meet first is the chairman—he's + about the worst dub of the lot; I never saw a man with so little force in + my life. He's got no magnetism, that's what's wrong with him—no + magnetism." + </p> + <p> + A few minutes later the Candidate was introducing me to a roomful of heavy + looking Committee men. Committee men in politics, I notice, have always a + heavy bovine look. They are generally in a sort of daze, or doped from + smoking free cigars. + </p> + <p> + "Now I want to introduce you first," said the Candidate, "to our chairman, + Mr. Frog. Mr. Frog is our old battle horse in this constituency. And this + is our campaign secretary Mr. Bughouse, and Mr. Dope, and Mr. Mudd, et + cetera." + </p> + <p> + Those may not have been their names. + </p> + <p> + It is merely what the names sounded like when one was looking into their + faces. + </p> + <p> + The Candidate introduced them all as battle horses, battle axes, battle + leaders, standard bearers, flag-holders, and so forth. If he had + introduced them as hat-racks or cigar holders, it would have been nearer + the mark. + </p> + <p> + Presently the Candidate went out and I was left with the battle-axes. + </p> + <p> + "What do you think of our chances?" I asked. + </p> + <p> + The battle-axes shook their heads with dubious looks. + </p> + <p> + "Pretty raw deal," said the Chairman, "the Convention wishing HIM on us." + He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder to indicate the departed + Candidate. + </p> + <p> + "What's wrong with him?" I asked. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Frog shook his head again. + </p> + <p> + "No PUNCH," he said. + </p> + <p> + "None at all," agreed all the battle horses. + </p> + <p> + "I'll tell you," said the Campaign secretary, Mr. Bughouse, a voluble man, + with wandering eyes—"the trouble is he has no magnetism, no personal + magnetism." + </p> + <p> + "I see," I said. + </p> + <p> + "Now, you take this man, Shortis, that the Liberals have got hold of," + continued Mr. Bughouse, "he's full of MAGNETISM. He appeals." + </p> + <p> + All the other Committee men nodded. + </p> + <p> + "That's so," they murmured, "magnetism, Our man hasn't a darned ounce of + it." + </p> + <p> + "I met Shortis the other night in the street," went on Mr. Bughouse, "and + he said, 'Come on up to my room in the hotel.' 'Oh,' I said, 'I can't very + well.' 'Nonsense,' he said, 'You're on the other side but what does that + matter?' Well, we went up to his room, and there he had whiskey, and gin, + and lager,—everything. 'Now,' he says, 'name your drink—what + is it?' There he was, right in his room, breaking the law without caring a + darn about it. Well, you know the voters like that kind of thing. It + appeals to them." + </p> + <p> + "Well," said another of the Committee men,—I think it was the one + called Mr. Dope, "I wouldn't mind that so much. But the chief trouble + about our man, to my mind, is that he can't speak." + </p> + <p> + "He can't?" I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + All the Committee shook their heads. + </p> + <p> + "Not for sour apples!" asserted Mr. Dope positively. "Now, in this riding + that won't do. Our people here are used to first class speaking, they + expect it. I suppose there has been better speaking in this Constituency + than anywhere else in the whole dominion. Not lately, perhaps; not in the + last few elections. But I can remember, and so can some of the boys here, + the election when Sir John A. spoke here, when the old Mackenzie + government went out." + </p> + <p> + He looked around at the circle. Several nodded. + </p> + <p> + "Remember it as well," assented Mr. Mudd, "as if it were yesterday." + </p> + <p> + "Well, sir," continued Mr. Dope, "I'll never forget Sir John A. speaking + here in the Odd Fellows' Hall, eh?" + </p> + <p> + The Committee men nodded and gurgled in corroboration. + </p> + <p> + "My! but he was PLASTERED. We had him over at Pete Robinson's hotel all + afternoon, and I tell you he was plastered for fair. We ALL were. I + remember I was so pickled myself I could hardly help Sir John up the steps + of the platform. So were you, Mudd, do you remember?" + </p> + <p> + "I certainly was!" said Mr. Mudd proudly. Committee men who would scorn to + drink lager beer in 1919, take a great pride, I have observed, in having + been pickled in 1878. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir," continued Mr. Dope, "you certainly were pickled. I remember + just as well as anything, when they opened the doors and let the crowd in: + all the boys had been bowling up and were pretty well soused. You never + saw such a crowd. Old Dr. Greenway (boys, you remember the old Doc) was in + the chair, and he was pretty well spifflocated. Well, sir, Sir John A. got + up in that hall and he made the finest, most moving speech I ever listened + to. Do you remember when he called old Trelawney an ash-barrel? And when + he made that appeal for a union of hearts and said that the sight of + McGuire (the Liberal candidate) made him sick? I tell you those were great + days. You don't get speaking like that now; and you don't get audiences + like that now either. Not the same calibre." + </p> + <p> + All the Committee shook their heads. + </p> + <p> + "Well, anyway, boys," said the Chairman, as he lighted a fresh cigar, + "to-morrow will decide, one way or the other. We've certainly worked hard + enough,"—here he passed the box of cigars round to the others—"I + haven't been in bed before two any night since the work started." + </p> + <p> + "Neither have I," said another of the workers. "I was just saying to the + wife when I got up this morning that I begin to feel as if I never wanted + to see the sight of a card again." + </p> + <p> + "Well, I don't regret the work," said the Secretary, "so long as we carry + the riding. You see," he added in explanation to me, "we're up against a + pretty hard proposition here. This riding really is Liberal: they've got + the majority of voters though we HAVE once or twice swung it Conservative. + But whether we can carry it with a man like Grouch is hard to say. One + thing is certain, boys, if he DOES carry it, he doesn't owe it to + himself." + </p> + <p> + All the battle horses agreed on this. A little after that we dispersed. + </p> + <p> + And twenty-four hours later the vote was taken and to my intense surprise + the riding was carried by Grouch the Conservative candidate. + </p> + <p> + I say, to MY surprise. But apparently not to anybody else. + </p> + <p> + For it appeared this (was in conversations after the election) that Grouch + was a man of extraordinary magnetism. He had, so they said, "punch." + Shortis, the Liberal, it seemed, lacked punch absolutely. Even his own + supporters admitted that he had no personality whatever. Some wondered how + he had the nerve to run. + </p> + <p> + But my own theory of how the election was carried is quite different. + </p> + <p> + I feel certain that all the Conservative voters despised their candidate + so much that they voted Liberal. And all the Liberals voted Conservative. + </p> + <p> + That carried the riding. + </p> + <p> + Meantime Grouch left the constituency by the first train next day for + Ottawa. Except for paying taxes on his house, he will not be back in the + town till they dissolve parliament again. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0033" id="link2H_4_0033"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + 5.—The Lost Illusions of Mr. Sims + </h2> + <p> + In the club to which I belong, in a quiet corner where the sunlight falls + in sideways, there may be seen sitting of an afternoon my good friend of + thirty years' standing, Mr. Edward Sims. Being somewhat afflicted with + gout, he generally sits with one foot up on a chair. On a brass table + beside him are such things as Mr. Sims needs. But they are few. Wealthy as + he is, the needs of Mr. Sims reach scarcely further than Martini cocktails + and Egyptian cigarettes. Such poor comforts as these, brought by a + deferential waiter, with, let us say, a folded newspaper at five o'clock, + suffice for all his wants. Here sits Mr. Sims till the shadows fall in the + street outside, when a limousine motor trundles up to the club and rolls + him home. + </p> + <p> + And here of an afternoon Mr. Sims talks to me of his college days when he + was young. The last thirty years of his life have moved in so gentle a + current upon so smooth a surface that they have been without adventure. It + is the stormy period of his youth that preoccupies my friend as he sits + looking from the window of the club at the waving leaves in the summer + time and the driving snow in the winter. + </p> + <p> + I am of that habit of mind that makes me prone to listen. And for this, + perhaps, Mr. Sims selects me as the recipient of the stories of his + college days. It is, it seems, the fixed belief of my good friend that + when he was young he belonged at college to a particularly nefarious crowd + or group that exists in his mind under the name of the "old gang." The + same association, or corporate body or whatever it should be called, is + also designated by Mr. Sims, the "old crowd," or more simply and + affectionately "the boys." In the recollection of my good friend this "old + gang" were of a devilishness since lost off the earth. Work they wouldn't. + Sleep they despised. While indoors they played poker in a blue haze of + tobacco smoke with beer in jugs and mugs all round them. All night they + were out of doors on the sidewalk with linked arms, singing songs in + chorus and jeering at the city police. + </p> + <p> + Yet in spite of life such as this, which might appear to an outsider + wearing to the intellect, the "old gang" as recollected by Mr. Sims were + of a mental brilliancy that eclipses everything previous or subsequent. + McGregor of the Class of '85 graduated with a gold medal in Philosophy + after drinking twelve bottles of lager before sitting down to his final + examination. Ned Purvis, the football half-back, went straight from the + football field after a hard game with his ankle out of joint, drank half a + bottle of Bourbon Rye and then wrote an examination in Greek poetry that + drew tears from the President of the college. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Sims is perhaps all the more prone to talk of these early days + insomuch that, since his youth, life, in the mere material sense, has used + him all too kindly. At an early age, indeed at about the very time of his + graduation, Mr. Sims came into money,—not money in the large and + frenzied sense of a speculative fortune, begetting care and breeding + anxiety, but in the warm and comfortable inheritance of a family brewery, + about as old and as well-established as the Constitution of the United + States. In this brewery, even to-day, Mr. Sims, I believe, spends a + certain part, though no great part, of his time. He is carried to it, I + understand, in his limousine in the sunnier hours of the morning; for an + hour or so each day he moves about among the warm smell of the barley and + the quiet hum of the machinery murmuring among its dust. + </p> + <p> + There is, too, somewhere in the upper part of the city a huge, silent + residence, where a noiseless butler adjusts Mr. Sims's leg on a chair and + serves him his dinner in isolated luxury. + </p> + <p> + But the residence, and the brewery, and with them the current of Mr. + Sims's life move of themselves. + </p> + <p> + Thus has care passed Mr. Sims by, leaving him stranded in a club chair + with his heavy foot and stick beside him. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Sims is a bachelor. Nor is he likely now to marry: but this through no + lack of veneration or respect for the sex. It arises, apparently, from the + fact that when Mr. Sims was young, during his college days, the beauty and + charm of the girls who dwelt in his college town was such as to render all + later women mere feeble suggestions of what might have been. There was, as + there always is, one girl in particular. I have not heard my friend speak + much of her. But I gather that Kate Dashaway was the kind of girl who + might have made a fit mate even for the sort of intellectual giant that + flourished at Mr. Sims's college. She was not only beautiful. All the + girls remembered by Mr. Sims were that. But she was in addition "a good + head" and "a good sport," two of the highest qualities that, in Mr. Sims's + view, can crown the female sex. She had, he said, no "nonsense" about her, + by which term Mr. Sims indicated religion. She drank lager beer, played + tennis as well as any man in the college, and smoked cigarettes a whole + generation in advance of the age. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Sims, so I gather, never proposed to her, nor came within a measurable + distance of doing so. A man so prone, as is my friend, to spend his time + in modest admiration of the prowess of others is apt to lag behind. Miss + Dashaway remains to Mr. Sims, as all else does, a retrospect and a regret. + </p> + <p> + But the chief peculiarities of the old gang—as they exist in the + mind of Mr. Sims—is the awful fate that has overwhelmed them. It is + not merely that they are scattered to the four corners of the continent. + That might have been expected. But, apparently, the most awful moral ruin + has fallen upon them. That, at least, is the abiding belief of Mr. Sims. + </p> + <p> + "Do you ever hear anything of McGregor now?" I ask him sometimes. + </p> + <p> + "No," he says, shaking his head quietly. "I understand he went all to the + devil." + </p> + <p> + "How was that?" + </p> + <p> + "Booze," says Mr. Sims. There is a quiet finality about the word that ends + all discussion. + </p> + <p> + "Poor old Curly!" says Mr. Sims, in speaking of another of his classmates. + "I guess he's pretty well down and out these days." + </p> + <p> + "What's the trouble?" I say. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Sims moves his eyes sideways as he sits. It is easier than moving his + head. + </p> + <p> + "Booze," he says. + </p> + <p> + Even apparent success in life does not save Mr. Sims's friends. + </p> + <p> + "I see," I said one day, "that they have just made Arthur Stewart a Chief + Justice out west." + </p> + <p> + "Poor old Artie," murmured Mr. Sims. "He'll have a hard time holding it + down. I imagine he's pretty well tanked up all the time these days." + </p> + <p> + When Mr. Sims has not heard of any of his associates for a certain lapse + of years, he decides to himself that they are down and out. It is a form + of writing them off. There is a melancholy satisfaction in it. As the + years go by Mr. Sims is coming to regard himself and a few others as the + lonely survivors of a great flood. All the rest, brilliant as they once + were, are presumed to be "boozed," "tanked," "burnt out," "bust-up," and + otherwise consumed. + </p> + <p> + After having heard for so many years the reminiscences of my good friend + about the old gang, it seemed almost incredible that one of them should + step into actual living being before my eyes. Yet so it happened. + </p> + <p> + I found Mr. Sims at the club one day, about to lunch there, a thing + contrary to his wont. And with him was a friend, a sallow, insignificant + man in the middle fifties, with ragged, sandy hair, wearing thin. + </p> + <p> + "Shake hands with Tommy Vidal," said Mr. Sims proudly. + </p> + <p> + If he had said, "Shake hands with Aristotle," he couldn't have spoken with + greater pride. + </p> + <p> + This then was Tommy Vidal, the intellectual giant of whom I had heard a + hundred times. Tommy had, at college, so Mr. Sims had often assured me, + the brightest mind known since the age of Pericles. He took the prize in + Latin poetry absolutely "without opening a book." Latin to Tommy Vidal had + been, by a kind of natural gift, born in him. In Latin he was "a whale." + Indeed in everything. He had passed his graduation examination with first + class honours; "plastered." He had to be held in his seat, so it was + recorded, while he wrote. + </p> + <p> + Tommy, it seemed, had just "blown in" to town that morning. It was + characteristic of Mr. Sims's idea of the old gang that the only way in + which any of them were supposed to enter a town was to "blow in." + </p> + <p> + "When did you say you 'blew in,' Tommy?" he asked about half a dozen times + during our lunch. In reality, the reckless, devil-may-care fellow Vidal + had "blown in" to bring his second daughter to a boarding school—a + thing no doubt contemplated months ahead. But Mr. Sims insisted in + regarding Tommy's movements as purely fortuitous, the sport of chance. He + varied his question by asking "When do you expect to 'blow out' Tommy?" + Tommy's answers he forgot at once. + </p> + <p> + We sat and talked after lunch, and it pained me to notice that Tommy Vidal + was restless and anxious to get away. Mr. Sims offered him cigars, thick + as ropes and black as night, but he refused them. It appeared that he had + long since given up smoking. It affected his eyes, he said. The + deferential waiter brought brandy and curacoa in long thin glasses. But + Mr. Vidal shook his head. He hadn't had a drink, he said, for twenty + years. He found it affected his hearing. Coffee, too, he refused. It + affected, so it seemed, his sense of smell. He sat beside us, ill at ease, + and anxious, as I could see, to get back to his second daughter and her + schoolmistresses. Mr. Sims, who is geniality itself in his heart, but has + no great powers in conversation, would ask Tommy if he remembered how he + acted as Antigone in the college play, and was "plastered" from the second + act on. Mr. Vidal had no recollection of it, but wondered if there was any + good book-store in town where he could buy his daughter an Algebra. He + rose when he decently could and left us. As Mr. Sims saw it, he "blew + out." + </p> + <p> + Mr. Sims is kindliness itself in his judgments. He passed no word of + censure on his departed friend. But a week or so later he mentioned to me + in conversation that Tommy Vidal had "turned into a kind of stiff." The + vocabulary of Mr. Sims holds no term of deeper condemnation than the word + "stiff." To be a "stiff" is the last form of degradation. + </p> + <p> + It is strange that when a thing happens once, it forthwith happens twice + or even more. For years no member of the "old gang" had come in touch with + Mr. Sims. Yet the visit of Tommy Vidal was followed at no great distance + of time by the "blowing in" of Ned Purvis. + </p> + <p> + "Well, well!" said Mr. Sims, as he opened one afternoon a telegram that + the deferential waiter brought upon a tray. "This beats all! Old Ned + Purvis wires that he's going to blow in to town to-night at seven." + </p> + <p> + Forthwith Mr. Sims fell to ordering dinner for the three of us in a + private room, with enough of an assortment of gin cocktails and Scotch + highballs to run a distillery, and enough Vichy water and imported soda + for a bath. "I know old Ned!" he said as he added item after item to the + list. + </p> + <p> + At seven o'clock the waiter whispered, as in deep confidence, that there + was a gentleman below for Mr. Sims. + </p> + <p> + It so happened that on that evening my friend's foot was in bad shape, and + rested on a chair. At his request I went from the lounge room of the club + downstairs to welcome the new arrival. + </p> + <p> + Purvis I knew all about. My friend had spoken of him a thousand times. He + had played half-back on the football team—a big hulking brute of a + fellow. In fact, he was, as pictured by Mr. Sims, a perfect colossus. And + he played football—as did all Mr. Sims's college chums—"plastered." + "Old Ned," so Mr. Sims would relate, "was pretty well 'soused' when the + game started: but we put a hose at him at half-time and got him into + pretty good shape." All men in any keen athletic contest, as remembered by + Mr. Sims, were pretty well "tanked up." For the lighter, nimbler games + such as tennis, they were reported "spifflocated" and in that shape + performed prodigies of agility. + </p> + <p> + "You'll know Ned," said Mr. Sims, "by his big shoulders." I went + downstairs. + </p> + <p> + The reception room below was empty, except for one man, a little, + gentle-looking man with spectacles. He wore black clothes with a waistcoat + reaching to the throat, a white tie and a collar buttoned on backwards. + Ned Purvis was a clergyman! His great hulking shoulders had gone the way + of all my good friend's reminiscences. + </p> + <p> + I brought him upstairs. + </p> + <p> + For a moment, in the half light of the room, Mr. Sims was still deceived. + </p> + <p> + "Well, Ned!" he began heartily, with a struggle to rise from his chair—then + he saw the collar and tie of the Rev. Mr. Purvis, and the full horror of + the thing dawned upon him. Nor did the three gin cocktails, which Mr. Sims + had had stationed ready for the reunion, greatly help its geniality. Yet + it had been a maxim, in the recollections of Mr. Sims, that when any of + the boys blew in anywhere the bringing of drinks must be instantaneous and + uproarious. + </p> + <p> + Our dinner that night was very quiet. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Purvis drank only water. That, with a little salad, made his meal. He + had a meeting to address that evening at eight, a meeting of women—"dear + women" he called them—who had recently affiliated their society with + the work that some of the dear women in Mr. Purvis's own town were + carrying on. The work, as described, boded no good for breweries. Mr. + Purvis's wife, so it seemed, was with him and would also "take the + platform." + </p> + <p> + As best we could we made conversation. + </p> + <p> + "I didn't know that you were married," said Mr. Sims. + </p> + <p> + "Yes," said Mr. Purvis, "married, and with five dear boys and three dear + girls." The eight of them, he told us, were a great blessing. So, too, was + his wife—a great social worker, it seemed, in the cause of women's + rights and a marvellous platform speaker in the temperance crusade. + </p> + <p> + "By the way, Mr. Sims," said Mr. Purvis (they had called one another "Mr." + after the first five minutes), "you may remember my wife. I think perhaps + you knew her in our college days. She was a Miss Dashaway." + </p> + <p> + Mr. Sims bowed his head over his plate, as another of his lost illusions + vanished into thin air. + </p> + <p> + After Mr. Purvis had gone, my friend spoke out his mind—once and + once only, and more in regret than anger. + </p> + <p> + "I'm afraid," he said, "that old Ned has turned into a SISSY." + </p> + <p> + It was only to be expected that the visits of later friends—the + "boys" who happened to "blow in"—were disappointments. Art Hamilton, + who came next, and who had been one of the most brilliant men of the Class + of '86 had turned somehow into a "complete mutt." Jake Todd, who used to + write so brilliantly in the college paper, as recollected by Mr. Sims, was + now the editor of a big New York daily. Good things might have been + expected of him, but it transpired that he had undergone "wizening of the + brain." In fact, a number of Mr. Sims's former friends had suffered from + this cruel disease, consisting apparently of a shrinkage or contraction of + the cerebellum. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Sims spoke little of his disappointments. But I knew that he thought + much about them. They set him wondering. There were changes here that to + the thoughtful mind called for investigation. + </p> + <p> + So I was not surprised when he informed me that it was his intention to + visit "the old place" and have a look at it. The "old place," called also + the "old shop," indicated, as I knew, Mr. Sims's college, the original + scene of the exploits of the old gang. In the thirty years since he had + graduated, though separated from it only by two hundred miles, Mr. Sims + had never revisited it. So is it always with the most faithful of the sons + of learning. The illumination of the inner eye is better than the crude + light of reality. College reunions are but for the noisy lip service of + the shallow and the interested. The deeper affection glows in the absent + heart. + </p> + <p> + My friend invited me to "come along." We would, he said, "blow in" upon + the place and have a look at it. + </p> + <p> + It was in the fullness of the spring time that we went, when the leaves + are out on the college campus, and when Commencement draws near, and when + all the college, even the students, are busy. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Sims, I noted when I joined him at the train, was dressed as for the + occasion. He wore a round straw hat with a coloured ribbon, and light grey + suit, and a necktie with the garish colours of the college itself. Thus + dressed, he leaned as lightly as his foot allowed him upon a yellow stick, + and dreamed himself again an undergraduate. + </p> + <p> + I had thought the purpose of his visit a mere curiosity bred in his + disappointment. It appeared that I was wrong. On the train Mr. Sims + unfolded to me that his idea in "blowing in" upon his college was one of + benefaction. He had it in his mind, he said, to do something for the "old + place," no less a thing than to endow a chair. He explained to me, + modestly as was his wont, the origin of his idea. The brewing business, it + appeared, was rapidly reaching a stage when it would have to be wound up. + The movement of prohibition would necessitate, said Mr. Sims, the closing + of the plant. The prospect, in the financial sense, occasioned my friend + but little excitement. I was given to understand that prohibition, in the + case of Mr. Sims's brewery, had long since been "written off" or "written + up" or at least written somewhere where it didn't matter. And the movement + itself Mr. Sims does not regard as permanent. Prohibition, he says, is + bound to be washed out by a "turn of the tide"; in fact, he speaks of this + returning wave of moral regeneration much as Martin Luther might have + spoken of the Protestant Reformation. But for the time being the brewery + will close. Mr. Sims had thought deeply, it seemed, about putting his + surplus funds into the manufacture of commercial alcohol, itself a noble + profession. For some time his mind has wavered between that and endowing a + chair of philosophy. There is, and always has been, a sort of natural + connection between the drinking of beer and deep quiet thought. Mr. Sims, + as a brewer, felt that philosophy was the proper thing. + </p> + <p> + We left the train, walked through the little town and entered the + university gates. + </p> + <p> + "Gee!" said Mr. Sims, pausing a moment and leaning on his stick, "were the + gates only as big as that?" + </p> + <p> + We began to walk up the avenue. + </p> + <p> + "I thought there were more trees to it than these," said Mr. Sims. + </p> + <p> + "Yes," I answered. "You often said that the avenue was a quarter of a mile + long." + </p> + <p> + "So the thing used to be," he murmured. + </p> + <p> + Then Mr. Sims looked at the campus. "A dinky looking little spot," he + said. + </p> + <p> + "Didn't you say," I asked, "that the Arts Building was built of white + marble?" + </p> + <p> + "Always thought it was," he answered. "Looks like rough cast from here, + doesn't it." + </p> + <p> + "We'll have to go in and see the President, I suppose," continued Mr. + Sims. He said it with regret. Something of his undergraduate soul had + returned to his body. Although he had never seen the President (this one) + in his life, and had only read of his appointment some five years before + in the newspapers, Mr. Sims was afraid of him. + </p> + <p> + "Now, I tell you," he went on. "We'll just make a break in and then a + quick get-away. Don't let's get anchored in there, see? If the old fellow + gets talking, he'll go on for ever. I remember the way it used to be when + a fellow had to go in to see Prexy in my time. The old guy would start + mooning away and quoting Latin and keep us there half the morning." + </p> + <p> + At this moment two shabby-looking, insignificant men who had evidently + come out from one of the buildings, passed us on the sidewalk. + </p> + <p> + "I wonder who those guys are," said Mr. Sims. "Look like bums, don't + they?" + </p> + <p> + I shook my head. Some instinct told me that they were professors. But I + didn't say so. + </p> + <p> + My friend continued his instructions. + </p> + <p> + "When the President asks us to lunch," he said, "I'll say that we're + lunching with a friend down town, see? Then we'll make a break and get + out. If he says he wants to introduce us to the Faculty or anything like + that, then you say that we have to get the twelve-thirty to New York, see? + I'm not going to say anything about a chair in philosophy to-day. I want + to read it up first some night so as to be able to talk about it." + </p> + <p> + To all of this I agreed. + </p> + <p> + From a janitor we inquired where to find the President. + </p> + <p> + "In the Administration Building, eh?" said Mr. Sims. "That's a new one on + me. The building on the right, eh? Thank you." + </p> + <p> + "See the President?" said a young lady in an ante-office. "I'm not sure + whether you can see him just now. Have you an appointment?" + </p> + <p> + Mr. Sims drew out a card. "Give him that" he said. On the card he had + scribbled "Graduate of 1887." + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes we were shown into another room where there was a young + man, evidently the President's secretary, and a number of people waiting. + </p> + <p> + "Will you kindly sit down," murmured the young man, in a consulting-room + voice, "and wait? The President is engaged just now." + </p> + <p> + We waited. Through the inner door leading to the President people went and + came. Mr. Sims, speaking in whispers, continued to caution me on the + quickness of our get-away. + </p> + <p> + Presently the young man touched him on the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + "The President will see you now," he whispered. + </p> + <p> + We entered the room. The "old guy" rose to meet us, Mr. Sims's card in his + hand. But he was not old. He was at least ten years younger than either of + us. He was, in fact, what Mr. Sims and I would almost have called a boy. + In dress and manner he looked as spruce and busy as the sales manager of a + shoe factory. + </p> + <p> + "Delighted to see you, gentlemen," he said, shaking hands effusively. "We + are always pleased to see our old graduates, Mr. Samson—No, I beg + pardon, Mr. Sims—class of '97, I see—No, I beg your pardon, + Class of '67, I read it wrongly—" + </p> + <p> + I heard Mr. Sims murmuring something that seemed to contain the words "a + look around." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, yes, exactly," said the President. "A look round, you'll find a + great deal to interest you in looking about the place, I'm sure, Mr. + Samson, great changes. I'm extremely sorry I can't offer to take you round + myself," here he snapped a gold watch open and shut, "the truth is I have + to catch the twelve-thirty to New York—so sorry." + </p> + <p> + Then he shook our hands again, very warmly. + </p> + <p> + In another moment we were outside the door. The get-away was accomplished. + </p> + <p> + We walked out of the building and towards the avenue. + </p> + <p> + As we passed the portals of the Arts Building, a noisy, rackety crowd of + boys—evidently, to our eyes, schoolboys —came out, jostling + and shouting. They swarmed past us, accidentally, no doubt, body-checking + Mr. Sims, whose straw hat was knocked off and rolled on the sidewalk. A + janitor picked it up for him as the crowd of boys passed. + </p> + <p> + "What pack of young bums are those?" asked Mr. Sims. "You oughtn't to let + young roughs like that come into the buildings. Are they here from some + school or something?" + </p> + <p> + "No sir," said the janitor. "They're students." + </p> + <p> + "Students?" repeated Mr. Sims. "And what are they shouting like that for?" + </p> + <p> + "There's a notice up that their professor is ill, and so the class is + cancelled, sir." + </p> + <p> + "Class!" said Mr. Sims. "Are those a class?" + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir," said the janitor. "That's the Senior Class in Philosophy." + </p> + <p> + Mr. Sims said nothing. He seemed to limp more than his custom as we passed + down the avenue. + </p> + <p> + On the way home on the train he talked much of crude alcohol and the + possibilities of its commercial manufacture. + </p> + <p> + So far as I know, his only benefaction up to date has been the two dollars + that he gave to a hackman to drive us away from the college. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0034" id="link2H_4_0034"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + 6.—Fetching the Doctor: From Recollections of Childhood in the + Canadian Countryside + </h2> + <p> + We lived far back in the country, such as it used to be in Canada, before + the days of telephones and motor cars, with long lonely roads and snake + fences buried in deep snow, and with cedar swamps where the sleighs could + hardly pass two abreast. Here and there, on a winter night, one saw the + light in a farm house, distant and dim. + </p> + <p> + Over it all was a great silence such as people who live in the cities can + never know. + </p> + <p> + And on us, as on the other families of that lonely countryside, there + sometimes fell the sudden alarm of illness, and the hurrying drive through + the snow at night to fetch the doctor from the village, seven miles away. + </p> + <p> + My elder brother and I—there was a long tribe of us, as with all + country families—would hitch up the horse by the light of the stable + lantern, eager with haste and sick with fear, counting the time till the + doctor could be there. + </p> + <p> + Then out into the driving snow, urging the horse that knew by instinct + that something was amiss, and so mile after mile, till we rounded the + corner into the single street of the silent village. + </p> + <p> + Late, late at night it was—eleven o'clock, perhaps—and the + village dark and deep in sleep, except where the light showed red against + the blinds of the "Surgery" of the doctor's rough-cast house behind the + spruce trees. + </p> + <p> + "Doctor," we cried, as we burst in, "hurry and come. Jim's ill—" + </p> + <p> + I can see him still as he sat there in his surgery, the burly doctor, + rugged and strong for all the sixty winters that he carried. There he sat + playing chess—always he seemed to be playing chess—with his + son, a medical student, burly and rugged already as himself. + </p> + <p> + "Shut the door, shut the door!" he called. "Come in, boys; here, let me + brush that snow off you—it's my move Charlie, remember—now, + what the devil's the matter?" + </p> + <p> + Then we would pant out our hurried exclamations, both together. + </p> + <p> + "Bah!" he growled, "ill nothing! Mere belly ache, I guess." + </p> + <p> + That was his term, his favorite word, for an undiagnosed disease—"belly + ache." They call it supergastral aesthesia now. In a city house, it sounds + better. Yet how we hung upon the doctor's good old Saxon term, yearning + and hoping that it might be that. + </p> + <p> + But even as he growled the doctor had taken down a lantern from a hook, + thrown on a huge, battered fur coat that doubled his size, and was putting + medicines—a very shopful it seemed—into a leather case. + </p> + <p> + "Your horse is done up," he said. "We'll put my mare in. Come and give me + a hand, Charlie." + </p> + <p> + He was his own hostler and stable-man, he and his burly son. Yet how + quickly and quietly he moved, the lantern swinging on his arm, as he + buckled the straps. "What kind of a damn fool tug is this you've got?" he + would say. + </p> + <p> + Then, in a moment, as it seemed, out into the wind and snow again, the + great figure of the doctor almost filling the seat of the cutter, the two + of us crushed in beside him, with responsibility, the unbearable burden, + gone from us, and renewed comfort in our hearts. + </p> + <p> + Little is said on the way: our heads are bent against the storm: the long + stride of the doctor's mare eats up the flying road. + </p> + <p> + Then as we near the farm house and see the light in the sick-room window, + fear clutches our hearts again. + </p> + <p> + "You boys unhitch," says the doctor. "I'll go right in." + </p> + <p> + Presently, when we enter the house, we find that he is in the sick-room—the + door closed. No word of comfort has come forth. He has sent out for hot + blankets. The stoves are to be kept burning. We must sit up. We may be + needed. That is all. + </p> + <p> + And there in that still room through the long night, he fights + single-handed against Death. Behind him is no human help, no consultation, + no wisdom of the colleges to call in; only his own unaided strength, and + his own firm purpose and that strange instinct in the fight for a + flickering life, that some higher power than that of colleges has planted + deep within his soul. + </p> + <p> + So we watch through the night hours, in dull misery and fear, a phantom at + the window pane: so must we wait till the slow morning shows dim and pale + at the windows. + </p> + <p> + Then he comes out from the room. His face is furrowed with the fatigue of + his long vigil. But as he speaks the tone of his voice is as that of one + who has fought and conquered. + </p> + <p> + "There—he'll do now. Give him this when he wakes." + </p> + <p> + Then a great joy sweeps over us as the phantom flees away, and we shudder + back into the warm sunshine of life, while the sound of the doctor's + retreating sleighbells makes music to our ears. + </p> + <p> + And once it was not so. The morning dawned and he did not come from the + darkened room: only there came to our listening ears at times the sound of + a sob or moan, and the doctor's voice, firm and low, but with all hope + gone from it. + </p> + <p> + And when at last he came, his face seemed old and sad as we had never seen + it. He paused a moment on the threshold and we heard him say, "I have done + all that I can." Then he beckoned us into the darkened room, and, for the + first time, we knew Death. + </p> + <p> + All that is forty years ago. + </p> + <p> + They tell me that, since then, the practice of medicine has been vastly + improved. There are specialists now, I understand, for every conceivable + illness and for every subdivision of it. If I fall ill, there is a whole + battery of modern science to be turned upon me in a moment. There are + X-rays ready to penetrate me in all directions. I may have any and every + treatment—hypnotic, therapeutic or thaumaturgic—for which I am + able to pay. + </p> + <p> + But, oh, my friends, when it shall come to be my lot to be ill and + stricken—in the last and real sense, with the Great Fear upon me, + and the Dark Phantom at the pane—then let some one go, fast and + eager—though it be only in the paths of an expiring memory—fast + and eager, through the driving snow to bring him to my bedside. Let me + hear the sound of his hurrying sleighbells as he comes, and his strong + voice without the door—and, if that may not be, then let me seem at + least to feel the clasp of his firm hand to guide me without fear to the + Land of Shadows, where he has gone before. + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Hohenzollerns in America, by Stephen Leacock + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT THE HOHENZOLLERNS IN AMERICA *** + +This file should be named 4781-h.htm or 4781-h.zip + +This etext was produced by Gardner Buchanan + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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