The Autobiography of an Ex-Colored ManJohnson, James Weldon
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The Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man
Johnson, James Weldon
African American men -- Fiction; Racially mixed people -- Fiction
I should not neglect to mention what impressed me most forcibly during
my stay in London. It was not St. Paul's nor the British Museum nor
Westminster Abbey. It was nothing more or less than the simple phrase
"Thank you," or sometimes more elaborated, "Thank you very kindly,
sir." I was continually surprised by the varied uses to which it was
put; and, strange to say, its use as an expression of politeness
seemed more limited than any other. One night I was in a cheap
music hall and accidentally bumped into a waiter who was carrying a
tray-load of beer, almost bringing him to several shillings' worth of
grief. To my amazement he righted himself and said: "Thank ye, sir,"
and left me wondering whether he meant that he thanked me for not
completely spilling his beer, or that he would thank me for keeping
out of his way.
I also found cause to wonder upon what ground the English accuse
Americans of corrupting the language by introducing slang words. I
think I heard more and more different kinds of slang during my few
weeks' stay in London than in my whole "tenderloin" life in New York.
But I suppose the English feel that the language is theirs, and that
they may do with it as they please without at the same time allowing
that privilege to others.
My millionaire was not so long in growing tired of London as of Paris.
After a stay of six or eight weeks we went across into Holland.
Amsterdam was a great surprise to me. I had always thought of Venice
as the city of canals; it had never entered my mind that I should find
similar conditions in a Dutch town. I don't suppose the comparison
goes far beyond the fact that there are canals in both cities--I
have never seen Venice--but Amsterdam struck me as being extremely
picturesque. From Holland we went to Germany, where we spent five or
six months, most of the time in Berlin. I found Berlin more to my
taste than London, and occasionally I had to admit that in some things
it was superior to Paris.
In Berlin I especially enjoyed the orchestral concerts, and I attended
a large number of them. I formed the acquaintance of a good many
musicians, several of whom spoke of my playing in high terms. It was
in Berlin that my inspiration was renewed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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