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knowledge of the workings of the aristocratic mind。  Those of us who 
are not Primrose Knights miss even this poor glimpse into the world 
above us。  We know nothing; simply nothing; concerning the deeper 
feelings of the upper ten。  Personally; I once received a letter from 
an Earl; but that was in connection with a dairy company of which his 
lordship was chairman; and spoke only of his lordship's views 
concerning milk and the advantages of the cash system。  Of what I 
really wished to knowhis lordship's passions; yearnings and general 
attitude to lifethe circular said nothing。

Year by year I find myself more and more in a minority。  One by one 
my literary friends enter into this charmed aristocratic circle; 
after which one hears no more from them regarding the middle…classes。  
At once they set to work to describe the mental sufferings of Grooms 
of the Bed…chamber; the hidden emotions of Ladies in their own right; 
the religious doubts of Marquises。  I want to know how they do it
〃how the devil they get there。〃  They refuse to tell me。

Meanwhile; I see nothing before me but the workhouse。  Year by year 
the public grows more impatient of literature dealing merely with the 
middle…classes。  I know nothing about any other class。  What am I to 
do?

Commonplace peoplefriends of mine without conscience; counsel me in 
flippant phrase to 〃have a shot at it。〃

〃I expect; old fellow; you know just as much about it as these other 
Johnnies do。〃  (I am not defending their conversation either as 
regards style or matter:  I am merely quoting。)  〃And even if you 
don't; what does it matter?  The average reader knows less。  How is 
he to find you out?〃

But; as I explain to them; it is the law of literature never to write 
except about what you really know。  I want to mix with the 
aristocracy; study them; understand them; so that I may earn my 
living in the only way a literary man nowadays can earn his living; 
namely; by writing about the upper circles。

I want to know how to get there。



CHAPTER IV



'Man and his Master。'

There is one thing that the Anglo…Saxon does better than the 〃French; 
or Turk; or Rooshian;〃 to which add the German or the Belgian。  When 
the Anglo…Saxon appoints an official; he appoints a servant:  when 
the others put a man in uniform; they add to their long list of 
masters。  If among your acquaintances you can discover an American; 
or Englishman; unfamiliar with the continental official; it is worth 
your while to accompany him; the first time he goes out to post a 
letter; say。  He advances towards the post…office a breezy; self…
confident gentleman; borne up by pride of race。  While mounting the 
steps he talks airily of 〃just getting this letter off his mind; and 
then picking up Jobson and going on to Durand's for lunch。〃

He talks as if he had the whole day before him。  At the top of the 
steps he attempts to push open the door。  It will not move。  He looks 
about him; and discovers that is the door of egress; not of ingress。  
It does not seem to him worth while redescending the twenty steps and 
climbing another twenty。  So far as he is concerned he is willing to 
pull the door; instead of pushing it。  But a stern official bars his 
way; and haughtily indicates the proper entrance。  〃Oh; bother;〃 he 
says; and down he trots again; and up the other flight。

〃I shall not be a minute;〃 he remarks over his shoulder。  〃You can 
wait for me outside。〃

But if you know your way about; you follow him in。  There are seats 
within; and you have a newspaper in your pocket:  the time will pass 
more pleasantly。  Inside he looks round; bewildered。  The German 
post…office; generally speaking; is about the size of the Bank of 
England。  Some twenty different windows confront your troubled 
friend; each one bearing its own particular legend。  Starting with 
number one; he sets to work to spell them out。  It appears to him 
that the posting of letters is not a thing that the German post…
office desires to encourage。  Would he not like a dog licence 
instead? is what one window suggests to him。  〃Oh; never mind that 
letter of yours; come and talk about bicycles;〃 pleads another。  At 
last he thinks he has found the right hole:  the word 〃Registration〃 
he distinctly recognizes。  He taps at the glass。

Nobody takes any notice of him。  The foreign official is a man whose 
life is saddened by a public always wanting something。  You read it 
in his face wherever you go。  The man who sells you tickets for the 
theatre!  He is eating sandwiches when you knock at his window。  He 
turns to his companion:

〃Good Lord!〃 you can see him say; 〃here's another of 'em。  If there 
has been one man worrying me this morning there have been a hundred。  
Always the same story:  all of 'em want to come and see the play。  
You listen now; bet you anything he's going to bother me for tickets。  
Really; it gets on my nerves sometimes。〃

At the railway station it is just the same。

〃Another man who wants to go to Antwerp!  Don't seem to care for 
rest; these people:  flying here; flying there; what's the sense of 
it?〃  It is this absurd craze on the part of the public for letter…
writing that is spoiling the temper of the continental post…office 
official。  He does his best to discourage it。

〃Look at them;〃 he says to his assistantthe thoughtful German 
Government is careful to provide every official with another official 
for company; lest by sheer force of ennui he might be reduced to 
taking interest in his work〃twenty of 'em; all in a row!  Some of 
'em been there for the last quarter of an hour。''

〃Let 'em wait another quarter of an hour;〃 advises the assistant; 
〃perhaps they'll go away。〃

〃My dear fellow;〃 he answers; 〃do you think I haven't tried that?  
There's simply no getting rid of 'em。  And it's always the same cry:  
'Stamps! stamps! stamps!'  'Pon my word; I think they live on stamps; 
some of 'em。〃

〃Well let 'em have their stamps?〃 suggests the assistant; with a 
burst of inspiration; 〃perhaps it will get rid of 'em。〃

'Why the Man in Uniform has; generally; sad Eyes。'

〃What's the use?〃 wearily replies the older man。  〃There will only 
come a fresh crowd when those are gone。〃

〃Oh; well;〃 argues the other; 〃that will be a change; anyhow。  I'm 
tired of looking at this lot。〃

I put it to a German post…office clerk oncea man I had been boring 
for months。  I said:

〃You think I write these lettersthese short stories; these three…
act playson purpose to annoy you。  Do let me try to get the idea 
out of your head。  Personally; I hate workhate it as much as you 
do。  This is a pleasant little town of yours:  given a free choice; I 
could spend the whole day mooning round it; never putting pen to 
paper。  But what am I to do?  I have a wife and children。  You know 
what it is yourself:  they clamour for food; bootsall sorts of 
things。  I have to prepare these little packets for sale and bring 
them to you to send off。  You see; you are here。  If you were not 
hereif there were no post…office in this town; maybe I'd have to 
train pigeons; or cork the thing up in a bottle; fling it into the 
river; and trust to luck and the Gulf Stream。  But; you being here; 
and calling yourself a post…officewell; it's a temptation to a 
fellow。〃

I think it did good。  Anyhow; after that he used to grin when I 
opened the door; instead of greeting me as formerly with a face the 
picture of despair。  But to return to our inexperienced friend。

At last the wicket is suddenly opened。  A peremptory official demands 
of him 〃name and address。〃  Not expecting the question; he is a 
little doubtful of his address; and has to correct himself once or 
twice。  The official eyes him suspiciously。

〃Name of mother?〃 continues the official。

〃Name of what?〃

〃Mother!〃 repeats the official。  〃Had a mother of some sort; I 
suppose。〃

He is a man who loved his mother sincerely while she lived; but she 
has been dead these twenty years; and; for the life of him he cannot 
recollect her name。  He thinks it was Margaret Henrietta; but is not 
at all sure。  Besides; what on earth has his mother got to do with 
this registered letter that he wants to send to his partner in New 
York?

〃When did it die?〃 asks the official。

〃When did what die?  Mother?〃

〃No; no; the child。〃

〃What child?〃  The indignation of the official is almost picturesque。

〃All I want to do;〃 explains your friend; 〃is to register a letter。〃

〃A what?〃

〃This letter; I want〃

The window is slammed in his face。  When; ten minutes later he does 
reach the right wicketthe bureau for the registration of letters; 
and not the bureau for the registration of infantile deathsit is 
pointed out to him that the letter either is sealed or that it is not 
sealed。

I have never been able yet to solve this problem。  If your letter is 
sealed; it then appears that it ought not to have been sealed。

If; on the other hand; you have omitted to seal it; that is your 
fault。  In any case; the letter cannot go as it is。  The continental 
official brings up the public on the principle of the nurse who sent 
the eldest

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