A Little Journey in the WorldWarner, Charles Dudley
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A Little Journey in the World
Warner, Charles Dudley
American fiction -- 19th century
I am sorry to say that the reader must go to the files of the city press
for an account of the night's festivity. The pen that has been used in
portraying Margaret's career is entirely inadequate to it. There is a
general impression that an American can do anything that he sets his
hand to, but it is not true; it is true only that he tries everything.
The reporter is born, as the poet is; it cannot be acquired--that
astonishing, irresponsible command of the English language; that warm,
lyrical tone; that color, and bewildering metaphorical brilliancy; that
picturesqueness; that use of words as the painter uses pigments, in
splashes and blotches which are so effective; that touch of raillery
and sarcasm and condescension; that gay enjoyment of reveling in the
illimitable; that air of superior knowledge and style; that dash of
sentiment; that calm and somewhat haughty judgment.
I am always impressed at such an entertainment with the good-humor of
the American people, no matter what may be the annoyance and discomfort.
In all the push and thrust and confusion, amid the rending of trains,
the tearing of lace, the general crushing of costumes, there was the
merriest persiflage, laughter, and chatter, and men and women entered
into and drew out of the fashionable wreck in the highest spirits. For
even in such a spacious mansion there were spots where currents met, and
rooms where there was a fight for mere breath. It would have been a tame
affair without this struggle. And what an epitome of life it all was!
There were those who gave themselves up to admiration, who gushed with
enthusiasm; there were those who had the weary air of surfeit with
splendor of this sort; there were the bustling and volatile, who made
facetious remarks, and treated the affair like a Fourth of July; and
there were also groups dark and haughty, like the Stotts, who held a
little aloof, and coldly admitted that it was most successful; it lacked
je ne sais quoi, but it was in much better taste than they had expected.
Is there something in the very nature of a crowd to bring out the
inherent vulgarity of the best-bred people, so that some have doubted
whether the highest civilization will tolerate these crushing and
hilarious assemblies?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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