By Sheer Pluck: A Tale of the Ashanti War — John Shaqi
By Sheer Pluck: A Tale of the Ashanti WarHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
General
By Sheer Pluck: A Tale of the Ashanti War
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Ashanti war, 1873-1874 -- Juvenile fiction
“I don't know how it is,” the porter said as they sat together
afterwards, “but a gentleman looks like a gentleman put him in what
clothes you will. I could have sworn to your being that if I'd never
seen you before. I can't make it out, I don't know what it is, but
there's certainly something in gentle blood, whatever you may say
about it. Some of my mates are forever saying that one man's as good as
another. Now I don't mean to say they ain't as good; but what I say is,
as they ain't the same. One man ain't the same as another any more than
a race horse is the same as a cart horse. They both sprang from the same
stock, at least so they says; but breeding and feeding and care has made
one into a slim boned creature as can run like the wind, while the other
has got big bones and weight and can drag his two ton after him without
turning a hair. Now, I take it, it's the same thing with gentlefolks and
working men. It isn't that one's bigger than the other, for I don't see
much difference that way; but a gentleman's lighter in the bone, and
his hands and his feet are smaller, and he carries himself altogether
different. His voice gets a different tone. Why, Lord bless you, when I
hears two men coming along the platform at night, even when I can't see
'em, and can't hear what they says, only the tone of their voices, I
knows just as well whether it's a first class or a third door as I've
got to open as if I saw 'em in the daylight. Rum, ain't it?”
Frank had never thought the matter out, and could only give his general
assent to his companion's proposition.
“Now,” the porter went on, “if you go into a factory or workshop, I'll
bet a crown to a penny that before you've been there a week you'll get
called Gentleman Jack, or some such name. You see if you ain't.”
“I don't care what they call me,” Frank laughed, “so that they'll take
me into the factory.”
“All in good time,” the porter said; “don't you hurry yourself. As
long as you can stay here you'll be heartily welcome. Just look what
a comfort it is to have you sitting here sociable and comfortable. You
don't suppose I could have sat here alone in this room if you hadn't
been here? I should have been in a public house making a beast of
myself, and spending as much money as would keep the pair of us.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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