Look at my friend and partner Judkins, as he stands with his hands in his
trousers pockets at the door of our house in Friday Street. What can be
meaner than his appearance? He is a stumpy, short, podgy man; but then
so also was my Arab friend at Suez. Judkins is always dressed from head
to foot in a decent black cloth suit; his coat is ever a dress coat, and
is neither old nor shabby. On his head he carries a shining new silk
hat, such as fashion in our metropolis demands. Judkins is rather a
dandy than otherwise, piquing himself somewhat on his apparel. And yet
how mean is his appearance, as compared with the appearance of that
Arab;—how mean also is his gait, how ignoble his step! Judkins could buy
that Arab out four times over, and hardly feel the loss; and yet were
they to enter a room together, Judkins would know and acknowledge by his
look that he was the inferior personage. Not the less, should a personal
quarrel arise between them, would Judkins punch the Arab’s head; ay, and
reduce him to utter ignominy at his feet.
Judkins would break his heart in despair rather than not return a blow;
whereas the Arab would put up with any indignity of that sort.
Nevertheless Judkins is altogether deficient in personal dignity. I
often thought, as the hours hung in Egypt, whether it might not be
practicable to introduce an oriental costume in Friday Street.
At this moment, as the Arab gentleman entered the cavernous coffee-room,
I felt that I was greatly the inferior personage. He was followed by
four or five others, dressed somewhat as himself; though by no means in
such magnificent colours, and by one gentleman in a coat and trousers.
The gentleman in the coat and trousers came last, and I could see that he
was one of the least of the number. As for myself, I felt almost
overawed by the dignity of the stout party in the turban, and seeing that
he came directly across the room to the place where I was seated, I got
upon my legs and made him some sign of Christian obeisance.
I am a little man, and not podgy, as is Judkins, and I flatter myself
that I showed more deportment, at any rate, than he would have exhibited.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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