Adam Johnstone's SonCrawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion)
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Adam Johnstone's Son
Crawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion)
British -- Italy -- Fiction; Divorce -- Fiction; Love stories
And it would have been easy enough, if the man himself had taken the
same view. He, however, had watched the Bowrings on the preceding
evening, and had made up his mind that they were "human beings," as he
put it; that is to say, that they belonged to his own class, whereas
none of the people at the upper end of the table had any claim to be
counted with the social blessed. He was young, and though he knew how to
amuse himself alone, and had all manner of manly tastes and
inclinations, he preferred pleasant society to solitude, and his
experience told him that the society of the Bowrings would in all
probability be pleasant. He therefore determined that he would try to
know them at once, and the determination had already been formed in his
mind when he had run after Clare to give her the shawl she had dropped.
He got up rather late, and promptly marched out upon the terrace under
the vines, smoking a briar-root pipe with that solemn air whereby the
Englishman abroad proclaims to the world that he owns the scenery. There
is something almost phenomenal about an Englishman's solid
self-satisfaction when he is alone with his pipe. Every nation has its
own way of smoking. There is a hasty and vicious manner about the
Frenchman's little cigarette of pungent black tobacco; the Italian
dreams over his rat-tail cigar; the American either eats half of his
Havana while he smokes the other, or else he takes a frivolous delight
in smoking delicately and keeping the white ash whole to the end; the
German surrounds himself with a cloud, and, god-like, meditates within
it; there is a sacrificial air about the Asiatic's narghileh, as the
thin spire rises steadily and spreads above his head; but the
Englishman's short briar-root pipe has a powerful individuality of its
own. Its simplicity is Gothic, its solidity is of the Stone Age, he
smokes it in the face of the higher civilisation, and it is the badge of
the conqueror. A man who asserts that he has a right to smoke a pipe
anywhere, practically asserts that he has a right to everything. And it
will be admitted that Englishmen get a good deal.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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