Short stories; United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
Mind you, this was not at all a homage that I was paying to London. I
was paying homage to a new game. A man properly lazy does not like new
experiences until they become old ones. Moreover, I have been taught
that a man, any man, who has a thousand times more points of
information on a certain thing than I have will bully me because of it,
and pour his advantages upon my bowed head until I am drenched with his
superiority. It was in my education to concede some license of the kind
in this case, but the holy father of a porter and the saintly cabman
occupied the middle distance imperturbably, and did not come down from
their hills to clout me with knowledge. From this fact I experienced a
criminal elation. I lost view of the idea that if I had been
brow-beaten by porters and cabmen from one end of the United States to
the other end I should warmly like it, because in numbers they are
superior to me, and collectively they can have a great deal of fun out
of a matter that would merely afford me the glee of the latent butcher.
This London, composed of a porter and a cabman, stood to me subtly as a
benefactor. I had scanned the drama, and found that I did not believe
that the mood of the men emanated unduly from the feature that there
was probably more shillings to the square inch of me than there were
shillings to the square inch of them. Nor yet was it any manner of
palpable warm-heartedness or other natural virtue. But it was a perfect
artificial virtue; it was drill, plain, simple drill. And now was I
glad of their drilling, and vividly approved of it, because I saw that
it was good for me. Whether it was good or bad for the porter and the
cabman I could not know; but that point, mark you, came within the pale
of my respectable rumination.
I am sure that it would have been more correct for me to have alighted
upon St. Paul's and described no emotion until I was overcome by the
Thames Embankment and the Houses of Parliament. But as a matter of fact
I did not see them for some days, and at this time they did not concern
me at all. I was born in London at a railroad station, and my new
vision encompassed a porter and a cabman. They deeply absorbed me in
new phenomena, and I did not then care to see the Thames Embankment nor
the Houses of Parliament. I considered the porter and the cabman to be
more important.
CHAPTER II
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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