THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND 
 BY-WAYS 
 
 BEING THE 
 LETTERS OF JOHN AND RUTH DOBSON 
 
 WRITTEN FROM ENGLAND 
 TO THEIR FRIEND, LEIGHTON PARKS 
 
 " For me, an aim I never fash 
 I rhyme for fun." 
 
 BURNS. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 1920
 
 COPTRICHT, 1920, T 
 
 CHARLES SCBIBNER'S SONS 
 
 Published October, 1920 
 
 COPYKIGHT, 120, BY THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY CO.
 
 \ 
 
 TO 
 
 E. S. P. 
 
 WHO KNOWS JOHN AND RUTH DOB8ON 
 
 AS WELL AS I DO AND CAN BEAR WITNESS TO THE 
 
 TROTH OF THIS NARRATIVE! 
 
 " ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS " 
 
 IB AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 
 
 1362025
 
 PREFACE 
 
 WHAT this little book contains the reader must 
 discover for himself. I shall not save him trouble 
 by telling in the Preface anything about it. Nor 
 shall I tell more than the letters themselves show 
 as to the identity of John and Ruth. 
 
 It is a book with a Purpose. The purpose 
 being to give the reader the same pleasure that I 
 had in compiling it when debarred for a time 
 from more serious work. 
 
 I am, however, not without hope that this 
 humorous record of the impressions of two young 
 and unconventional Americans of the England be- 
 fore the dreadful war may do a little to lessen the 
 tension which the nervous strain of the last few 
 years has unhappily produced, and so help to 
 that mutual understanding and sympathy upon 
 which the welfare of the world depends. The test 
 of friendship is sympathetic banter, and is, more- 
 over, a firmer cement than solemn speech. 
 
 My thanks are due to the Atlantic Monthly for 
 permitting the use in book form of some passages 
 in this chronicle which appeared as articles in that 
 magazine. 
 
 L. P. 
 
 Point-au-Pic, Quebec, 
 August, 1920.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. THE LEGACY 3 
 
 II. THE SCHOOL OF INSTRUCTION .... 9 
 
 III. "FooL PROOF" 14 
 
 IV. "DER KAISER WILHELM DER ZWEITE" . 17 
 V. THE CAR ARRIVES 21 
 
 VI. THE GREAT NORTH ROAD 26 
 
 VII. THE ENGLAND OF FIELDING .... 31 
 
 VIII. THE END OF THE NORTH ROAD ... 35 
 
 IX. AN ENGLISH INTERIOR 40 
 
 X. HUSBAND AND WIFE 44 
 
 XI. THE FOURTH SPEED 54 
 
 XII. "JAELTHE WIFEOFHEBERTHEKENITE". 60 
 
 XIII. "As IT WAS IN THE BEGINNING". . . 65 
 
 XIV. RURAL ENGLAND 71 
 
 XV. EDUCATION 79 
 
 XVI. A BY-ELECTION 85 
 
 XVII. SHEEP-DOGS 89
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 XVIII. BRIGANDS AND BOOTBLACKS .... 95 
 
 XIX. THE PISTON-ROD 100 
 
 XX. FALSTAFF 107 
 
 XXI. THE BLACK COUNTRY Ill 
 
 XXII. AN "AVERAGE" SUNDAY 119 
 
 XXTTT. DOWAGER AND COWBOY 125 
 
 XXIV. "BY PURENESS, BY KlNDNESS, BY LOVE 
 
 UNFEIGNED" 134 
 
 XXV. THE COUNTY FAMILIES . 142 
 
 XXVI. THE BOAT-RACE 151 
 
 XXVH. THE CUSTOM-HOUSE 158 
 
 XXVUL THE "ROB" ROOM 165 
 
 XXIX. VESTED INTERESTS 171 
 
 XXX. "THE AULD UN'" 176 
 
 XXXI. CHURCH AND STATE 182 
 
 XXXII. THE CHAPLAIN TO THE QUEEN . . . 190 
 
 XXXIH. THE RETIRED COLONEL .192 
 
 XXXTV. A PROBLEM IN CASUISTRY 202 
 
 XXXV. A DAY OF TROUBLE AND DISTRESS . .210 
 
 XXXVI. "ONE EVERY MINUTE" ...... 217 
 
 XXXVII. ANGLIAOR FRONTENAC? .227 
 
 f Y 1 
 I A J
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS
 
 I WAS so sorry not to find you at the Rectory 
 when I called this afternoon. And, what is 
 worse, I fear we may not see you for a long 
 time, if, as your housekeeper says, you are to be 
 in California for a month. For before you re- 
 turn we shall be gone ! " Gone ? " you will ask. 
 "Where?" Well, I do not quite know. The 
 fact is I am in such a whirl that I hardly know 
 what I am writing! Perhaps it would be better 
 if I began at the beginning. 
 
 You know how overworked John has been for 
 some time. He has not been sleeping well, and 
 at times has been well, almost cross! which 
 means he is tired out. The culmination came on 
 Good Friday. I left church before the conclusion 
 of the three-hour service that I might reach home 
 in time to have a cup of tea ready for him when 
 he returned. You remember what a hot day it 
 was. Well, I was standing by the open window 
 in the study waiting to see him come round the 
 corner, and Rex the beautiful Irish setter which 
 Mr. Dennis gave John was with me. When John 
 appeared he waved his hand to me and called 
 [3]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 out "Hello, Rex!" and the poor dog, no doubt 
 thinking he had called him to come, sprang from 
 the window and fell the two flights, striking his 
 head on the steps, and was instantly killed. I 
 rushed down-stairs and found John looking as if 
 he were about to faint. We carried the body into 
 the laundry, and John, gazing upon it, groaned: 
 " I wish it were I." You may imagine how fright- 
 ened I was, but fortunately I had self-control 
 enough to keep silence and led him away and in- 
 duced him to drink a cup of strong tea. Then I 
 brought out his pipe, and, though he murmured, 
 "I have given it up for Lent," I said firmly, 
 "You have not given it up for to-day." When 
 he was resting I ran round the corner and asked 
 Mr. Hathaway, the carpenter, to make a box for 
 poor Rex, which he said he would do at once, for 
 every one on the block loved him. Then I tele- 
 phoned to Mabel Wheelock and asked her if she 
 would be willing to have the dear creature buried 
 on her place at Pelham. She was as sympathetic 
 as if we had lost a member of the family as in- 
 deed we have. But how to get the body there I 
 did not know ! I called up the hotel garage and 
 learned that it would cost seven dollars to hire a 
 taxi. It seemed more than we could pay, but I 
 decided we must risk it. How I wished I had not 
 bought that new hat for Easter ! 
 
 When all was ready I called John and we started 
 [4]
 
 THE LEGACY 
 
 for Pelham, where we left the body of a creature 
 of whom it could be said more truly than of many 
 humans, that "he was faithful unto death." 
 When we reached home I induced John to go to 
 bed, and was soon thankful to find that he had 
 fallen asleep. 
 
 The next morning I went to the store where I 
 had bought the hat and asked the woman to take 
 it back. She was none too well pleased. But, 
 as she had known me forever, she insisted upon 
 knowing the reason, and when I told her the 
 kind-hearted creature said: "Why, you poor 
 thing, you keep that hat, and I'll take the price 
 of the taxi off the bill. It will be good business, 
 anyhow, for when that hat is seen on you there 
 will be a run on them." You may think less of 
 me, but I was so glad to keep it ! 
 
 Then I went to see Dr. Webster. He listened 
 to my story and then said: "Your husband is as 
 sound as a dollar. I went all over him when he 
 had that touch of bronchitis in January. But he 
 has exhausted his nervous energy and must have 
 a rest." "But," I said, "we cannot afford to go 
 away." He answered gruffly: "You can't afford 
 to keep on." 
 
 We got through Easter somehow, and John did 
 his part better than I supposed would be pos- 
 sible. But when one of those "gushy" females, 
 who are found in every church, said to me: "How 
 [5 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 wonderful Mr. Dobson was to-day ! I don't see 
 how he does it ! However, it cannot Ve a strain 
 on him because he speaks so easily, tf he had 
 to prepare his sermons I don't suppose he could 
 do it, with all the parish work he has to do!" 
 That woman is called by some people "The salt 
 of the earth." She may be, but it is salt in lumps, 
 and I don't like it that way ! 
 
 John slept the clock round on Easter night and 
 it was nearly noon when he came down for a 
 cup of coffee. There were not many letters, 
 fortunately, but I had noticed one with the name 
 of a well-known firm of lawyers on the envelope, 
 and rather wondered what they could have to 
 say. 
 
 When John had read it he exclaimed: "Well, 
 I'll be jiggered!" 
 
 "What is it?" I asked. 
 
 "Why, Aunt Susan is dead." 
 
 "Is that the aunt who lived in California?" 
 
 "Yes, she went out there nearly twenty years 
 ago, and I do not suppose I have thought of her 
 twice since." 
 
 "Well, what has happened?" 
 
 "Why, she has left me some money." 
 
 "Oh, John !" I cried, thinking of what Dr. Web- 
 ster had said. "It can't be true." 
 
 "I guess it is," he replied. "Weeks & Burke 
 are pretty responsible people, and they write: 
 [6]
 
 THE LEGACY 
 
 'By the will of the late Miss Susan B. Melchor,' 
 etc." 
 
 I kncr. this sounds like the "long arm of coin- 
 cidence," at which you mock, and you will say 
 that such things do not happen outside of ro- 
 mances. Well, wait a moment and you will see 
 that this is connected with a romance and a 
 rather pathetic one too. When I asked John 
 about his aunt Susan, he could not tell me much. 
 He said there was a tradition among his sisters 
 but he had nothing else to go upon that when 
 his father became engaged to his mother poor 
 Aunt Susan was greatly shocked, for she had 
 gotten it into her head that he had been attracted 
 by her. For a long time there had been little 
 intercourse between the sisters, but after the 
 death of his father Aunt Susan had paid a visit 
 to his mother, and taken a fancy to the little 
 boy, who was supposed to resemble his father. 
 She had only money enough to enable her to 
 live in genteel poverty until she went to Cali- 
 fornia, and there met a man whom she had known 
 when she was a girl, and, following his advice, 
 had invested her little all in a land specula- 
 tion which, for a wonder, turned out well and 
 brought her a modest fortune, which she now, 
 or at least a part of it, bequeathed to the son of 
 the man to whom she had given her heart in her 
 girlhood. Certainly if the "long arm of coinci- 
 [7]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 dence" is ever to be stretched out, this is a time 
 when it might be expected to show its power ! 
 
 When we learned the amount of the legacy it 
 was evident that we should not be able to live 
 on the income of it, though it would be a great 
 help in supplementing a modest salary. But 
 when I told John that I thought we should now 
 be justified in taking a month off at Lakewood or 
 somewhere like that, he vulgarly replied: "Lake- 
 wood be blowed ! We are going to Europe to see 
 some of the things we have dreamed about." 
 
 "But that means we shall have to break into 
 the capital." 
 
 "Well," said he, "so long as we do not break 
 into another's man's capital, I do not see how the 
 law can interfere!" 
 
 I was so glad to feel his buoyant spirits again 
 that I had not the heart to make further objec- 
 tions. But I did add, as a final caution, that we 
 must not forget that we ought to lay up for a 
 rainy day. But he scorned this and said: "That 
 is the way money poisons us. We hoard because 
 we are afraid. At any rate it is far better for us 
 at this time, instead of laying up for a rainy day, 
 to lay down for a sunny day ! " 
 
 So that is what we are going to do. 
 
 [8]
 
 THE SCHOOL OF INSTRUCTION 
 
 II 
 
 THE SCHOOL OF INSTRUCTION 
 
 You have heard from Ruth of all the wonder- 
 ful things that have happened to us, and that 
 we are going abroad. But you have not heard 
 that we are planning a motor trip. If you say that 
 you are surprised, knowing that I have no motor, 
 I can only reply, "Not more so than I." I had 
 supposed Ruth would be content to go to Europe 
 as most of our friends have gone. But no; she 
 said a motor trip would be far more interesting. 
 I was rather surprised for another reason: Ruth 
 is so careful of the household expenses that when 
 I suggested that motoring was a rather expensive 
 amusement, she said it depended entirely upon 
 how it was done ! We could buy a cheap car and 
 dispense with the services of a chauffeur. In that 
 way it would prove less expensive than travelling 
 by train. "Think," said she, "what we should 
 save on baggage ! and besides, instead of stopping 
 at expensive hotels in the large towns, we can put 
 up at any little inn. Moreover, we can take a 
 lunch-basket and stop by the way at any place 
 that takes our fancy and eat our lunch." 
 
 I had memories of hearing something of the 
 same sort the first time I went abroad on a 
 cattle steamer. I was told by a fellow traveller 
 [9]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 that one could make a walking trip on the Con- 
 tinent for five francs a day! However, when I 
 thought of Ruth's uncomplaining economies these 
 many years, I said it was a fine idea. I did, how- 
 ever, point out that I knew rather less about a 
 motor than I do about a camel, but that objection 
 also was quickly disposed of. "Did not James 
 Hawkins drive his car? And had I not said, 
 when he preached for us last Lent that he had 
 the brain of a flea ? If he could learn to drive a 
 car could not the man, who, the bishop said, etc. ?" 
 Well, the result was I entered the School of 
 Instruction conducted by "Professor" Patrick 
 Quinn. I wish now I had gone to the Y. M. C. A., 
 for the instruction would, no doubt, have been as 
 good, and the atmosphere more refined! Last 
 winter I heard a paper read at a clerical meeting 
 by an optimist on "The Decline of Profanity." 
 The writer could never have been in a garage ! 
 However, "Prof" Quinn knew his business, and 
 cursed a little of his knowledge into me. There 
 were times when we were both discouraged, as on 
 the day when he pathetically told me that I should 
 learn quicker if I wasn't so "damn awkward." 
 But in spite of this drawback the time at last 
 came when my "Boss" announced that on the 
 following day he would take me out on the road. 
 So the next day the "Professor" drove to Jerome 
 Avenue, and then turned the car over to me. 
 [10]
 
 THE SCHOOL OF INSTRUCTION 
 
 Do you know how many posts there are on that 
 trolley line? You do not! No one does who 
 has not driven a car in and out among them. 
 Probably you suppose them to be stationary. 
 That is what I thought. But they move like 
 Birnam wood ! 
 
 Well, when my nerves were all on edge with 
 trying to dodge the posts, I was ordered to pass 
 a car just ahead of me. This I did triumphantly, 
 and cut in ahead. Unfortunately, at that mo- 
 ment its speed must suddenly have increased, for 
 the rear hub of our car nicked a piece out of the 
 front tire of the other car. What the driver of 
 that car said I decline to repeat. It is not well 
 you should know such things ! But I am now sure 
 that the clerical essayist already alluded to knows 
 more about Pelagianism than he does of the ver- 
 nacular of New York. I confess I had a momen- 
 tary unholy hope that my "Boss" would answer 
 him in a way it would be sinful for me to imitate, 
 but instead he asked me if I had a "pull" with the 
 police. When I replied I had not he sarcasti- 
 cally remarked that he supposed I must have, 
 seeing how hard I was trying to "get run in." 
 
 A few minutes later he directed me to run up 
 to the Concourse. You may remember there is 
 a sharp rise from Jerome Avenue, so thinking he 
 wished to find out if I remembered his lecture 
 "On the Art of Driving," in which he had empha- 
 
 [11]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 sized the importance of "giving her gas" at the 
 foot of a hill, and then "watch her pick up," I 
 gave her gas and watched her pick up. Indeed 
 the speed soon became alarming. At the top of 
 the hill there is a sharp turn into the Concourse 
 leading onto a bridge which spans the road on 
 which a trolley line passes beneath. Onto this 
 bridge, then, we whirled, the hub of the off rear 
 wheel striking the corner of the buttress of the 
 bridge and slewing us half-way round, so that the 
 car was now headed toward the frail railing which 
 marks rather than guards the roadway. I was 
 still "giving her gas" not knowing longer what 
 I was doing and have no doubt but that in an- 
 other second we should have plunged below, had 
 not the man wrenched the wheel from my hands 
 and straightened the car out. 
 
 I was fully prepared for profanity but not for 
 the wailing prayer which issued from his fright- 
 ened lips. I call it a prayer, for such it was in 
 form, though the bitterness of his tone made it 
 more dreadful than any oath. This is what he 
 said: "0 my G d, if ever I live to get home, 
 I'll never do anything riskier than drivin' in a 
 Vanderbilt Cup race." After this we changed 
 places by mutual consent. 
 
 It is surprising what a difference the road-bed 
 makes in the running of a car ! At least I suppose 
 it was due to that, for on Jerome Avenue the car 
 [12]
 
 THE SCHOOL OF INSTRUCTION 
 
 had run now fast now slow, while here it glided 
 along the road as smoothly as a shell goes through 
 the water when driven by the steady sweep of the 
 oars. Can the driver have anything to do with 
 it? I did not dare to ask the "Boss," for it was 
 evident that he was " mad at me." Another thing 
 surprised me. Again and again he refused per- 
 fectly good chances to cut in ahead of another 
 car, instead of which he would drop back and 
 wait until there was plenty of room, and then 
 run alongside of his rival until he could easily 
 take the lead. I found, however, that this timid 
 policy, as I was inclined to call it, was really 
 Fabian, for we passed each car in turn. More- 
 over, he did not seem to regard the drivers of 
 other cars as his natural enemies, as seemed to 
 me inevitable, but, on the contrary, spoke pleas- 
 antly to several and called not a few "brother." 
 But when I asked him if all the family was in the 
 business, he gruffly requested me "not to kid 
 him." Indeed, it was evident that he had ceased 
 swearing at me because he regarded me as hope- 
 less. I therefore decided not to return to the 
 school, even though I failed to receive the diploma 
 which, he had assured me at my entrance, would 
 insure me a first-class job. 
 
 [13]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 III 
 
 "FOOL PROOF" 
 
 IT will be remembered that it had been our 
 intention to buy a cheap car. However, we did 
 not, because Ruth decided that this would not 
 be so economical as we had supposed ! First, we 
 looked at the smallest and cheapest car on the 
 market. It was a two-cylinder, not much larger 
 than a perambulator, and as noisy as a donkey- 
 engine. The salesman said that for himself he 
 did not care for one of those perfectly silent cars: 
 "There is too much danger of accidents. You 
 come upon people suddenly, before they have 
 time to jump, and the first thing you know you 
 have a ten-thousand-dollar suit on your hands. 
 But with this car there is no such danger, for 
 people have time to get out of the way before 
 they are hurt." I must say this impressed me, 
 but Ruth, who knows nothing of the dangers of 
 driving, remarked that she did not think people 
 would be much hurt if that car did hit them. 
 "Resides," she added, "no conversation would be 
 possible in such a car." 
 
 The man replied that there was not much chance 
 
 in a car where you were blowing the Klaxon all 
 
 the time. "And, now," he said, "let me give 
 
 you a demonstration." To this we agreed, but 
 
 [14]
 
 "FOOL PROOF" 
 
 as there was room for but one besides the driver, 
 he suggested that I should try it first. So I 
 chugged round the block while the demonstrator 
 explained how many miles "she" would do on a 
 gallon, and how little oil it took to lubricate 
 "her." But when it came Ruth's turn, the en- 
 gine stalled, and no power would move it. So 
 we did not buy that one. 
 
 Well, we looked at many cars of many makes, 
 but the cheap ones were uncomfortable, and the 
 comfortable ones were too dear, and I was almost 
 in despair, for the time was passing and I felt 
 that I must have a little time to practise driving 
 before starting on such a journey as we had 
 planned. But a chance word decided me. We 
 were looking at a "Frontenac." It was a most 
 attractive-looking "runabout," and Ruth said it 
 "fitted her back" better than any we had seen, 
 and so, though the price was more than we had 
 intended to pay, I saw she had set her heart upon 
 it, and was asking myself if I could not economize 
 somewhere else and let her have what she wanted, 
 when the salesman, who of course was a mind- 
 reader, remarked: "This is a new model. We 
 built it because there was no car on the market 
 built for a 'gentleman's' use. You see, no one 
 with this car would need a chauffeur, though, as 
 you may have noticed, there is a seat which folds 
 up, so that if one wished to pick up a friend, or 
 [ 15]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 take a chauffeur for a special occasion, it could be 
 done." Then he added, as if speaking to himself, 
 while he laid his hand caressingly on the mud- 
 guard: "What I like about this car is that she is 
 practically 'FOOL PROOF.'" He had spoken 
 the inevitable word. That was the kind of car I 
 had been looking for ! Then followed an explana- 
 tion of the "self-starter" "something found on 
 no other car." I hesitated no longer. I paid the 
 deposit and he said the car was mine. It was not 
 cheap, but, as the testimonials say, "If I could 
 not buy its mate I would not sell it for twice the 
 amount I paid!" 
 
 One does not receive a car the day one pays 
 for it. There are still many things to buy in the 
 way of accessories, and as a result the car was not 
 in my hands until the day before I was required 
 to turn it over to the shipper. I therefore had 
 time only to drive around the park three times be- 
 fore I was required to deliver the car at the dock. 
 
 I was glad to find that I did better alone than 
 when profanity was being barked into my ear at 
 every turn! 
 
 Of course I stalled several times through failure 
 to "give her gas," but the self-starter had taken 
 the sting out of that, and I drove back to the 
 garage feeling that I was now prepared to risk 
 the two most precious lives in the world with a 
 fair margin of safety ! 
 
 [16]
 
 "DER KAISER WILHELM DER ZWEITE" 
 
 IV 
 "DER KAISER WILHELM DER ZWEITE" 
 
 You have crossed the North Atlantic too often 
 to be bothered with an account of our trip. We 
 ate too much indeed, I am told the temptation 
 to do so is greater on these boats than on any 
 except those of the French Line and also we 
 took too little exercise. And yet we seem none 
 the worse for it! Possibly that was due, in my 
 case, to the fact that I slept a great deal, and that 
 when I was not sleeping or eating I lay in my 
 deck-chair and wondered how any one could ever 
 worry! Is it not surprising how the petty 
 worries of life drop overboard at Sandy Hook? 
 This cannot be true, I suppose, of the foolish 
 men who keep in touch with the office by wire- 
 less, but it was true of us. Yet one day I was 
 startled by hearing my name called by a page, 
 who ran along the deck with a slip of paper in his 
 hand. Fortunately, it was only a word of greet- 
 ing from the Stoddards, who were returning on 
 the France, and sent us a message of good-will. 
 
 I did, however, have certain experiences which 
 were unusual. The first night out I was sitting 
 in the drafty and fearfully decorated smoking- 
 room when a man approached me and asked if I 
 would take a hand at poker. I declined politely 
 [17]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 but he insisted, urging that it was " only a friendly 
 game, twenty-five cents a point." I again de- 
 clined, saying I did not play. He returned to his 
 friend and remarked in a loud tone: "De trouble 
 mit men who hafe lifed all der lives in a village is 
 dat ven dey meet a stranger, dey tink he must 
 be a con man." 
 
 On Sunday morning we were wakened by the 
 band, which played, beautifully, "Ein Feste 
 Burg. ' ' I supposed that would be the only Sunday 
 observance, and was not a little surprised to re- 
 ceive a message from the captain, asking me to 
 hold service in the Lounge. This I did, the full 
 band assisting. There were a number of Ameri- 
 cans aboard, and most of them attended. But 
 what surprised me greatly was to notice a number 
 of Jews, several of whom later spoke to me and 
 expressed their satisfaction. They said that they 
 did not know that we used the Old Testament in 
 our service! I asked one of them, a cultivated 
 man, if he attended the synagogue. He shook 
 his head sadly and said, not since he was a boy, 
 unless it were to go to a funeral, and added that 
 this was true of thousands of cultivated Jews. I 
 said it seemed to me a dreadful thing that the 
 race which had given the greatest spiritual gifts 
 to mankind should be losing interest in the highest 
 ideals of life, and asked if it were not possible for 
 them to find in some form of Christianity, which, 
 [ 18]
 
 "DER KAISER WILHELM DER ZWEITE" 
 
 after all, was an evolution of Judaism, the satis- 
 faction their souls must crave. He looked at me 
 for a moment, and then said bitterly: "If Chris- 
 tians began by treating us as if we were human, 
 perhaps we might be willing to listen to their 
 gospel of brotherhood." I wonder if, instead of 
 a Society for the Conversion of the Jews, we do 
 not need a Society for the Conversion of Chris- 
 tians! 
 
 This service was memorable for another reason. 
 For the first time in my life I prayed for the 
 Kaiser. Indeed, it was the first time I had ever 
 heard him prayed for ! This gave great satisfac- 
 tion to the German-Americans, who, while they 
 are glad to enjoy the liberty of the Republic, 
 their hearts, without doubt, certainly many of 
 them, are with the Fatherland. They may, some 
 day, become a menace to us should we ever have 
 trouble with Germany. But that is not likely in 
 spite of our experience in Manila Bay ! But, in- 
 deed, I do not see why we should complain of 
 them when we think of the attitude of the Eng- 
 lish who make their homes with us. How many 
 Englishmen of the better class do you know who 
 have been naturalized? Not a score, I venture 
 to say. They write letters to the English papers, 
 and sometimes to our own, complaining of the 
 iniquities of Tammany Hall, but do not lift the 
 burden with one of their little fingers. 
 [19]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 However, you will have had enough of this! 
 How inevitably we parsons take to preaching 
 when we are not fooling ! 
 
 We reached Plymouth on a lovely evening and 
 glided into the harbor as quietly as you bring your 
 knockabout to its mooring. I was much im- 
 pressed by the discipline of the crew. There was 
 neither shouting nor confusion, and the great 
 ship dropped anchor as quietly as a ferry-boat 
 comes into its slip. One thing, however, sur- 
 prised me. As soon as we entered the harbor a 
 sound of firing was heard, and little water-spouts 
 shot up all over the surface of the water. They 
 were evidently harmless mines being exploded 
 from the batteries on shore. Still I wondered 
 they did not cease while the captain was engaged 
 in such a delicate operation, and it did not seem 
 in keeping with the English sporting spirit. I 
 spoke to one of the officers about it, and he re- 
 plied, with much dignity: "The English do this 
 each time we enter one of their harbors. It does 
 no harm, and is only a childish way of showing 
 their hatred of our merchant marine, which is 
 their only serious rival. But it is a mistake, as 
 they will some day learn." 
 
 Of course there may be no truth in this, and the 
 
 explosions at that particular time may have been 
 
 only a coincidence, but it is sad that such bad 
 
 feeling should exist between these two great na- 
 
 [20]
 
 THE CAR ARRIVES 
 
 lions as to make it possible for such things to be 
 believed. The Germans are talking most fool- 
 ishly about "Der Tag," but English plays and 
 novels, and even such a paper as the Spectator, are 
 helping to sow the seeds of suspicion. That in 
 this day England and Germany will go to war is, 
 I believe, thought possible only by the "retired 
 admirals." But the mere suspicion leads to fear, 
 and that, in turn, might lead to war. 
 
 Well, here I am talking politics, which is more 
 tiresome than preaching ! 
 
 ON reaching London we found that the freight 
 steamer on which the car had been shipped had 
 not yet arrived. As Ruth was most anxious to 
 see her sister, who lives in Yorkshire, she was 
 persuaded to proceed by train and leave me to 
 bring on the car alone. This was, indeed, a 
 happy solution of a problem which had caused me 
 some anxiety. I was quite ready to risk one 
 valuable life, but did not care to risk two ! 
 
 The next day I received word that the Georgic 
 
 had arrived at the Tilbury docks, and that the 
 
 car was being held "at the risk of the owner." I 
 
 had been advised to take a chauffeur with me and 
 
 [21]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 not to attempt to drive the car into London my- 
 self, which advice I followed. 
 
 When we arrived at Tilbury, which is about 
 twenty-five miles from London, we found the 
 car, still in its crate, standing on the docks. 
 There were few formalities to be complied with, 
 and a carpenter was soon at work opening the case. 
 
 While waiting I fell into conversation with the 
 third officer, who had charge of the unloading of 
 the vessel, and expressed my admiration of the 
 docks, and said I wished we had some equal to 
 them in New York. He admitted they were a 
 fine bit of work, but said that the possibilities of 
 our port were the greatest in the world. "I have 
 often wished," he added, "that I might see that 
 port fifty years hence. You see, it is the only 
 great city in the world that is directly on the 
 sea, and therefore has much the same advantage 
 now that Venice had of old. The East River, 
 being as it were a canal, connecting New York 
 Bay with Long Island Sound, and the Hudson 
 being an estuary of the sea, the largest ships can 
 dock almost in the heart of the city, discharge 
 cargo, then load again and pass out at any tide. 
 Nowhere else is such a thing possible." 
 
 I said I was thinking rather of the cleanliness 
 and "smartness" of the docks than of their 
 convenience. 
 
 " I grant you," he said, " that we beat you there. 
 [22]
 
 THE CAR ARRIVES 
 
 But already you are replacing your old wooden 
 docks with concrete, which will last as long as 
 stone. The reason your docks are not so clean 
 as ours is because of the high price of unskilled 
 labor with you. If we had to pay twelve shillings 
 a day to the man who sweeps and tidies up, we 
 should have to have the work done twice a week 
 as you do." 
 
 "Well," said I, "that means that we shall never 
 be able to have docks and streets as clean as 
 yours." 
 
 "If it did," he replied, "there are better things 
 than neatness. Neatness may imply poverty on 
 the part of labor, and poverty leads to drink and 
 so to the breeding of more poverty." 
 
 "Still," I urged, "though neatness may imply 
 poverty, slovenliness shows a lack of self-respect. 
 A city that cannot keep its front door-step clean 
 is a bad neighbor." 
 
 He laughed at this homely illustration but said 
 the solution of the problem must be found in 
 another way. "It is all very well to talk of the 
 'dignity' of labor, but where is the dignity in 
 sweeping up dung? perhaps taking up the last 
 of it in one's hands. No man does it willingly, 
 he is driven to it by necessity." 
 
 I quoted: 
 
 "Are these things necessities? 
 Then let us meet them like necessities." 
 [23]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 "You may be surprised to learn that a sailor 
 knows his Shakespeare, but I read a play every 
 voyage, and so I recognize that great speech of 
 the king. But the question is are these things 
 necessities? I say no. Machinery must be, and 
 I believe will be, invented to do the work which 
 no self-respecting man ought to be asked to do 
 habitually. Some day we shall have great vac- 
 uum cleaners to do such work, and then you 
 will have your docks and streets as clean as ours, 
 and at half the price." 
 
 I should like to have had more talk with this 
 intelligent young officer, but the car was now 
 ready, so the chauffeur and I took our places on 
 the front seat. 
 
 At that moment a wretched specimen of the 
 casual laborer appeared, and, touching his greasy 
 cap, inquired: "Shall I wind her up, Guv'ner?" 
 I nodded and he stooped down to find the handle. 
 Then he looked up with a grin, remarking: "You 
 'ave f ergot the 'andle, sir!" Meanwhile I had 
 touched the self-starter; the little electric engine 
 had begun to hum, there was a click and the car 
 glided away. I tossed the poor wretch a shilling, 
 but he was too astonished to say "Thank you." 
 He simply exclaimed, in a dazed way, "Well, I'm 
 damned!" There was a cheer from the by- 
 standers, and we slipped through the gate and 
 turned toward London. 
 
 [24]
 
 THE CAR ARRIVES 
 
 The chauffeur took the wheel, and of course the 
 talk turned upon cars. He admitted that the 
 American cars were "smart" and wonderfully 
 cheap, but declared that they could not compare 
 with English cars in durability. "They tell me 
 that at the end of a year you American gentlemen 
 turn in your cars, at a great loss, and get a new 
 one in exchange. But an English car will be as 
 good after five years as this will be at the end of 
 one. So, I do not see there is much saved." 
 
 I said we found it cheaper to scrap an old ma- 
 chine than to run up a bill for repairs. 
 
 He replied: "That may be, because wages are 
 so high, but in the long run the American car is 
 the more expensive." 
 
 "But you must remember," I replied, "that 
 every year there are improvements." 
 
 But he shrewdly remarked : " There are changes ; 
 I do not know that they are always improve- 
 ments. " 
 
 It was fascinating to watch this skilful driver 
 thread his way through the traffic; so well did he 
 manage that in a much shorter time than I 
 had supposed would be possible, we reached 
 the garage, in a street not far from Leicester 
 Square. 
 
 There were things enough still to do to occupy 
 the rest of the day the grease, with which the 
 brass work had been smeared to protect it en 
 [25]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 route, removed, the car cleaned and polished, and 
 the batteries filled with distilled water, which 
 could be obtained only from a "chemist," and all 
 valves and bolts tested. Then there were last 
 purchases to be made, to insure comfort in a 
 climate in which, even in summer, the American 
 shivers like a Mexican hairless dog! So it was 
 not till the next afternoon that, the chauffeur still 
 driving, we started on our great adventure. 
 
 VI 
 
 THE GREAT NORTH ROAD 
 
 I HAD supposed we should go north at once, in- 
 stead of which the driver headed west through 
 Regent Park, thus avoiding the narrow and 
 crowded thoroughfares of East London, which 
 stretch far to the north. Then, by by-ways 
 which a stranger could never have found, we came 
 to Hatfield, where I had planned to spend the 
 night, and there the chauffeur left me. I confess 
 that when I parted with him I felt as I have heard 
 the sick say they felt when the nurse departed 
 both weak and lonely ! 
 
 The inn at Hatfield is called the "Purple Cow," 
 or by the name of some other zoological curiosity, 
 but was comfortable enough except that its prox- 
 [26]
 
 THE GREAT NORTH ROAD 
 
 imity to the tracks of the Great Northern Railway 
 makes it as conducive to sleep as a room on the 
 "L" at home! 
 
 There is no garage connected with the inn of 
 uncertain name, but there are vast stables, now, 
 alas, well-nigh empty. The ancient ostler looks 
 with no kindly eye on motors, but he was, I think, 
 more favorably disposed toward me when I 
 showed an interest in his tales of former days, 
 when, so he said, as many as a hundred horses 
 had found bed and fodder at one time under his 
 care. This, of course, was in the good old coach- 
 ing days, which he could remember as a boy, be- 
 fore railroads had changed the face of England. 
 Indeed this continued, he said, for a long time 
 after that, while gentlemen still travelled in thei 
 carriages. But the motor-car had given the 
 coup de grace, and in his mind's eye the old man 
 could now see "Ichabod" inscribed across the 
 long, low front of the building which had once 
 echoed to the songs of postboys and the neighing 
 of many steeds. So, when he declined to wash 
 the car, saying he "knew nothing of such things," 
 I could not find it in my heart either to protest 
 or to lessen his tip when I departed. Rather I 
 felt the same sort of sympathy with him which I, 
 a stanch Protestant, felt when I saw in France 
 or Italy, old monks wandering through the aisles 
 of some deserted abbey. From both the glory 
 [27 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 had departed, and utility can never have the 
 charm of beauty. 
 
 I was the only guest at the inn, and instead of 
 ordering a chop, as any one but an American 
 would have done, I foolishly said I should like 
 "dinner." Therefore I was served with soup 
 enough for a bath a large fish, and a roast chicken, 
 followed by a huge tart ! When I saw the bill I 
 remembered Ruth's prophecy that we should save 
 money by stopping at small inns! There was 
 enough left to feed the inn-keeper's family for a 
 week. Perhaps it did ! 
 
 After dinner I strolled to the gates of "Hatfield 
 House" and looked up the long avenue, but catch- 
 ing only a glimpse of the hall. There came to 
 my mind certain articles by Godkin, in the Nation, 
 in which he had spoken with biting sarcasm of 
 Lord Salisbury, and then I recalled what A. V. 
 G. Allen used to say, that "Salisbury was the 
 typical Englishman." You know what a radical 
 Allen was in theology; yet he was a Tory in Eng- 
 lish politics. From Salisbury the mind naturally 
 rebounded to Gladstone, the political Liberal but 
 the ecclesiastical reactionary. Such musings led 
 me to ask myself if nature did not arrange our 
 temperaments as a clock-maker does the pen- 
 dulum of a grandfather clock, of metals with 
 different expansive qualities, lest a man be rad- 
 ical or conservative d oulrance? Turning such 
 [28]
 
 THE GREAT NORTH ROAD 
 
 thoughts over in my mind in that dreamy fashion 
 which is so delightful because it calls for no ac- 
 tion, I turned back to the inn, "and so to bed." 
 
 Next morning the weather was apparently "set 
 fair," and I drove out of the stable-yard in good 
 spirits. Mile after mile I drove sedately on, 
 gaining confidence with each hour. When I had 
 inquired of the dreary ostler what road to take to 
 Yorkshire, he had replied, in surprise, "The north 
 road. There ben't no other, so you can't miss it." 
 Little he knew what I am capable of! 
 
 The roads are all so good that it is not as easy 
 as one would suppose to keep to the great high- 
 way. There are no "mud roads" branching from 
 the pike, as in Pennsylvania, where the difference 
 is evident at a glance. So, when I had overcome 
 the first nervousness and begun to take notice of 
 the country, glancing first to the right to watch 
 the cattle feeding in the deep meadow, and then 
 to the left where the wheat was almost ready for 
 the harvest, and speculating on the yield as com- 
 pared with the new land at home, it is not strange 
 that I should have diverged from the right way. 
 Indeed it was not alone "the things which are 
 seen" which caused me to err, there was also the 
 "unseen" which filled the mind's eye. For this 
 was not the first time by any means that I had 
 travelled the Great North Road ! I had trod it 
 on foot with dear Jeanie Deans, thankful for an 
 [29]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 occasional "cast in a cart," and by coach with 
 Mr. Squeers, and in the pleasant company of Mr. 
 Pickwick also, if I am not mistaken. Well, the 
 result of all this contemplation of things, "visible 
 and invisible," was that when I finally inquired 
 the way, I found I was more than twenty miles 
 too far to the eastward not far, indeed, from 
 Cambridge. I found, moreover, that human na- 
 ture is the same on the country roads of England 
 as at home! For the laborer to whom I spoke 
 showed the same superiority that one notices in 
 those foolish people who get up early in the morn- 
 ing as they greet the late riser! He told me I 
 must retrace my road for some miles to get again 
 on the North road. But as this is a thing I de- 
 test, I insisted that by keeping on I should ulti- 
 mately regain the road I had lost. He reluctantly 
 admitted this might be done, if I kept on as far 
 as Royston. As all places were now the same to 
 me, this is what I decided to do, much to his dis- 
 appointment I am sure, for he would have liked 
 to see me pay the penalty of my folly. 
 
 As you have no doubt mentioned in more than 
 one of your sermons, "Disappointments are often 
 blessings in disguise." This proved to be one of 
 them, for it led me back into an England older 
 than that of Scott or Dickens even to the Eng- 
 land of Fielding ! 
 
 [30]
 
 THE ENGLAND OF FIELDING 
 
 VII 
 
 THE ENGLAND OF FIELDING 
 
 AGAIN I was the only guest at the inn which was 
 called, perhaps, "The Dappled Hart," but there 
 was an excellent dinner waiting for any who 
 might stop. There was lamb as tender as one 
 could wish, and peas which had not been withered 
 by transportation, and a cherry tart, over which 
 custard had been poured, which, I fear, came out 
 of a bottle such as the advertisements on the 
 boardings illustrate with a picture of a greedy 
 little girl waiting impatiently to be helped ! When 
 I praised the freshness of the peas the young 
 woman, who served me none too graciously, I 
 know not why, unless because I had no chauffeur, 
 said they had been picked in the garden that same 
 morning. This menu, I may say, seldom changed, 
 though sometimes the lamb had grown to mutton, 
 or even changed to some other animal; but, what- 
 ever the meat was called, it was invariably excel- 
 lent, and far better cooked than one would find 
 in a place of the same size at home. 
 
 When I had dined, or, as there was no soup, I 
 suppose I should say lunched, I asked if I might 
 smoke. But the uncompromising young woman 
 said "Certainly not," and pointed the way to the 
 bar. This was reached by crossing the paved 
 [31]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 way which led from the side street to the stables, 
 passing under an archway. The bar proved to 
 be a low, damp room, in which, I think, if one sat 
 long alcohol would become a necessity. There 
 were several small tables arranged for those who 
 wished to be semiprivate, but I noticed that the 
 few customers preferred to lean against the bar 
 and talk to the landlord, much as in the saloons 
 at home. After a casual glance they paid no 
 attention to me, and I sipped my coffee and 
 smoked my pipe in silence. 
 
 Then a man entered who seemed to be a stranger, 
 but who evidently knew the Masonic sign, for he 
 soon fell into conversation with them. He was 
 evidently what we call a "drummer," but had 
 none of the jollying manner of the guild as we 
 know it, for there were long pauses in the conver- 
 sation. Then entered a man who was evidently 
 quite at home, and felt himself to be of some im- 
 portance. He immediately began to lay down 
 the law on every subject mentioned, to which the 
 others submitted meekly. But not the drummer ! 
 He too had his opinions, and was willing to have 
 them known, and, encouraged by the landlord, 
 plucked up spirit and began to give as well as 
 take. I now anticipated some interesting talk, 
 and was not disappointed. The dominating man 
 had ordered whiskey and soda, or rather it had 
 been prepared by the landlord as if he were familiar 
 [32]
 
 THE ENGLAND OF FIELDING 
 
 with his customer's taste. As he slowly sipped it 
 he looked at me, as much as to say: "My friend, 
 I shall make short work of you when I am ready.'* 
 But I was saved by the drummer. He began by 
 explaining some of the inconveniences to which 
 a stranger, such as he, is subjected in a strange 
 town, and rashly suggested that provincial Eng- 
 land would be improved by the establishment of 
 places of "Convenience," such as every traveller 
 on the Continent is familiar with. 
 
 This is what the village doctor for such I now 
 learned he was was waiting for. He took high 
 moral ground and proved to his own satisfaction 
 and I think carried the house with him that 
 this would be the beginning of the end of English 
 morality. "Did the gentleman mean to suggest 
 that England should become as France?" 
 
 The gentleman "meant to suggest nothing of 
 the sort," and rather cleverly shifted the ground 
 from the moral to the physical. But here, of 
 course the doctor was too much for him, remark- 
 ing with a complacent smile: "I think I may be 
 allowed to speak with a little authority on that 
 aspect of the question, being a medical man 
 myself." 
 
 I do not know how great his authority may 
 have been, but I can answer for his dogmatism ! 
 How often the two are confused ! 
 
 If you were not temporarily blind and so de- 
 [33]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 pendent upon Miss Fuller to read your letters, I 
 would repeat the conversation which followed in 
 full. Not that there was anything improper in 
 it. The disputants were as solemn as if they were 
 discussing religion, only they "called a spade a 
 spade." But we have grown so squeamish, or 
 so immoral, that we hide "Tom Jones" under the 
 sofa-cushion and place "The Visits of Elizabeth" 
 on the parlor table. But rural England, I learned 
 that day, while it has changed superficially, is 
 still the England of Fielding. Squire Westons 
 can still be found in certain counties indeed 
 Dogberry is not unknown in remote villages. 
 
 When I had listened to as much as I dared 
 without bursting with laughter, which came when 
 the landlord stoutly declared that his "midden" 
 was not public property, I escaped to the stable- 
 yard and, as I drove by the bar-window, heard 
 the exasperating voice of the doctor proclaiming, 
 " Indeed, I could tell you of a case, not five miles 
 from here, to which, if I had not been called 
 immediately," etc. 
 
 34 ]
 
 THE END OF THE NORTH ROAD 
 
 VIII 
 THE END OF THE NORTH ROAD 
 
 I SUPPOSE my mind was full of Fielding and the 
 essential immobility of the English character, 
 which illustrates so well Goethe's saying, "Men 
 change but Man remains the same," when I was 
 jerked as it were out of the eighteenth century 
 into the twentieth by the violent blowing of a 
 motor-horn. Looking up I saw a large touring- 
 car, driven at great speed and heading straight 
 for me. I blew my horn in reply, and expected 
 to see the approaching car swerve to the other side 
 of the road. But, instead, it came rushing on, 
 and a head-on collision seemed inevitable. It was 
 now too late to escape by turning out, and so, 
 not knowing what to do, I did what proved to be 
 the best thing possible, I brought my car to a 
 sudden stop and waited for the impact! I sup- 
 posed the driver of the other car was drunk. But 
 evidently he was not so drunk as to plunge into 
 another car, for, with a frightful grinding of 
 brakes he checked his car, the headlights of the 
 two almost touching. 
 
 I was too confused to say anything, and so we 
 
 sat for a moment gazing at one another. He 
 
 spoke first, and you may imagine my surprise 
 
 when he said, in a tolerant tone: "Drunk?" To 
 
 F 35 1
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 have my suspicion of him so quickly thrown back 
 upon me so paralyzed me that I was speechless, 
 and simply continued to stare. 
 
 "I say," finally remarked my opponent, "are 
 you going to turn out, or are you looking for 
 trouble?" 
 
 There was a lady, or perhaps it would be more 
 accurate to say a female, sitting in the tonneau, 
 and she suddenly called out: "Henry, it is an 
 American, and he is on the wrong side of the 
 road!" 
 
 It was true ! In spite of warnings and good in- 
 tentions, I had left the car in charge of what De 
 Maistre calls one's bete, but what we think it 
 more elegant to call the "subconscious," while 
 my "self" had sh'pped back into the past to hold 
 converse with the mighty. 
 
 It was a foolish-looking "bete" which smiled at 
 the lady. But there was no answering smile. 
 Indeed, she was quite enraged, and while her 
 husband I hope it was her husband backed his 
 car and crossed to the other side of the road, 
 much as one would go round a sweep rather than 
 touch him, she stood up in the car and, in a tone 
 worthy of Mrs. Raddles, told me what she thought 
 of me and of my unhappy country. It was not 
 "hands," it was "claws," across the sea! 
 
 Well, I learned a good deal that day: first, that 
 in England the right side of the road is the wrong 
 [36]
 
 THE END OF THE NORTH ROAD 
 
 side, and, second, that while a "soft answer may 
 turn away wrath," there is nothing that so exas- 
 perates an angry woman as to sit silent and smile 
 like an imbecile ! 
 
 I had intended to pass the night at Grantham, 
 but finding it would make too long a day at the 
 rate at which I was travelling, I turned aside to 
 Peterborough. 
 
 My education in motoring progressed by learn- 
 ing something about the rate of travelling. I had 
 been told that twenty miles an hour was a safe 
 and comfortable speed, and consequently seldom 
 allowed the speedometer to rise above that figure. 
 But when I found how often I had to slow down 
 in passing through a village, and to stop altogether 
 in towns on account of traffic, I found that one 
 must keep pretty steadily at "thirty" to average 
 twenty miles an hour. 
 
 To this rule ought to be added the remark that 
 the driver who has an instinct for getting off the 
 road loses more time in a day than is expected ! 
 
 The entrance to the stable-yard at the inn in 
 Peterborough, as is frequently the case in old inns, 
 leads under a narrow archway. These were built 
 when the farmer's two-wheeled gigs were the 
 vogue and were no inconvenience to the driver. 
 But it requires skilful management to turn a 
 motor into one without touching the brickwork 
 on either side. If the hub of a gig collided with 
 [37 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 the masonry, it was the brickwork which gave 
 way. But the mud-guard of a motor is about 
 as pliable as metal can well be. If an archway 
 could speak it would doubtless have many a joy- 
 ful thing to say about these new-fangled machines ! 
 How proudly they roll up the High Street ! How 
 timidly they turn the corner into the narrow way ! 
 How fearfully they crawl toward the opening in 
 the yard! The reckless gigs took the turning 
 with a careless swing and, not infrequently, nipped 
 the buttress, as the deep groove in the brickwork 
 shows. Alas! I had not yet learned caution, 
 and a crumpled mud-guard was the penalty. The 
 grinning ostler did what he could to bend it 
 into shape, but never again would it have the 
 smart appearance it once had, and every chauffeur 
 would look with scorn on the foolish man who had 
 tried to do what the natty gigs had often done 
 and been none the worse for ! We are a swifter 
 race than our fathers, but a motor will no more 
 stand what the old carts did than a chauffeur can 
 drink as did those old Jehus, without paying a 
 heavy penalty. 
 
 There was still time to see the cathedral before 
 the doors would be closed for the night, and 
 thither I took my way. You know the great 
 church too well for me to dwell upon it. It is not 
 one of the greatest of the English cathedrals; it 
 lacks the majesty of the great fortress at Durham; 
 [38]
 
 THE END OF THE NORTH ROAD 
 
 it has not the intricate I had almost said self- 
 conscious beauty of Lincoln; it is not so vast 
 as Ely, which, as I once heard you say, "rises 
 out of the Fens as if typifying the conquest of 
 heathendom by the Cross"; nor is it so rich in 
 architectural treasures as Gloucester but how 
 impressive is its simple dignity! Here, I think, 
 one feels less than in the others that it was in- 
 tended for another service that is for the wor- 
 ship of another God ! Here is enshrined the 
 block-like solidity of the English character. 
 When, next morning, I listened to the familiar 
 words, "Our fathers have told us what thou hast 
 done, in their time of old," I felt that the setting 
 was perfect for that liturgy which has been the 
 most successful in building a bridge by which the 
 souls of men might pass from a Ptolemaic to a 
 Darwinian universe. 
 
 The car "pulled" well, and there were no ex- 
 citing incidents to report for the next two days. 
 The road runs through Grantham and then 
 through Newark, where the beautiful spire of the 
 parish church rises from the market-place. Here, 
 too, a fine bridge crosses the Trent. But I looked 
 in vain for the "monstrous cantle" which Hot- 
 spur complained the river "cranking in" had cut 
 out ! Perhaps it was not here but at some other 
 part of the river, or perhaps it was not true at all, 
 and Hotspur was only trying to get a "rise" out 
 [39]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 of Glendower! It is no matter. It only came 
 to my mind as I saw the Trent for the first time. 
 
 Donchester comes next, but as I did not pass 
 by the race-course, I can give you no tips ! 
 
 After this the road enters the rolling Yorkshire 
 hills, where, if the surface were not so good, 
 changes of gear would be frequent, so sharp are 
 the rises of the short hills. 
 
 In the early afternoon the towers of Fountain's 
 Abbey rose above the tree-tops, but I did not 
 stop, for I was more than ready for tea, and, more- 
 over, I hasted to reach the "Beeches," where I 
 knew a cordial English welcome, mixed with a 
 dash of American "gush," awaited me. 
 
 IX 
 
 AN ENGLISH INTERIOR 
 
 JOHN said this morning that he was so busy I 
 must write. He added that as all his letters had 
 been "outsides," mine must be an "inside" I 
 
 If you ask what keeps him busy, the answer is 
 the car. He and the chauffeur of the house are, 
 I think, breaking the motor to pieces. Not that 
 there was anything the matter with it so far as I 
 could see, but John said it was "not pulling just 
 right," which, I believe, is like the small boy's 
 [40]
 
 AN ENGLISH INTERIOR 
 
 excuse for taking a watch to pieces. He wants 
 to see the "wheels go round" ! At any rate, the 
 stable-yard is a sight! And so is John! The 
 chauffeur has been dragged away from the fas- 
 cinating game, but a boy of about fourteen is 
 acting as "plumber assistant." I stepped out for 
 a moment and heard John say, "Here, Will- 
 iam, hand me that spanner," and William reply: 
 "Spanner, sir, yes, sir, spanner." John caught 
 my eye and grinned, and at the same instant I 
 caught William winking at "cook," for which, I 
 venture the guess, he will be disciplined, for fa- 
 miliarity does not have much chance to breed 
 contempt in the servants' hall! However, I re- 
 membered that if this is to be an "inside" letter, 
 I must go inside to write it. 
 
 We have now been here a little more than a 
 week, and I am filled with admiration, not, I fear, 
 unmixed with envy, at the way this great house 
 seems to run itself. Of course, being a woman, my 
 first interest was in the "servant problem," which, 
 so far as I can see, does not exist. Sir Thomas is 
 not rich as we count riches, but there are servants 
 enough, I should think, to run a hotel ! And such 
 servants! Trim, neat, perfectly trained, and 
 always respectful. Of course, in England serving 
 is a profession once a servant always a servant 
 which must have what you would call a psychologi- 
 cal effect. Then servants and masters are of the 
 [41 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 same race and have the same religion. Surely 
 there must be a spiritual bond between people 
 who begin the day's work with prayer. 
 
 I talked this over with Maud. She began to 
 say, " In forming one's opinion on facts with which 
 one is not familiar," but I stopped her, saying: 
 "That won't do. You are talking just like 
 Thomas." She blushed a little at this, but an- 
 swered defiantly: "Well, he is a good person to 
 talk like." 
 
 "No," I answered, "no one is good to talk like." 
 
 She laughed at this queer sentence and then, 
 with a true Yankee drawl, imitating old Captain 
 Hyde, of Silver Harbor, said: "Well, by Godfrey, 
 I ain't never seen a pancake so thin it didn't have 
 a minder side!" 
 
 "Well," said I, "what is the under side to this 
 pancake?" 
 
 "It is this: while it is true we pay about half 
 as much for servants here as we do at home, on 
 the other hand, we must have twice the number. 
 Everything is so specialized that if one were to 
 ask the parlor-maid to do a piece of work which 
 properly belongs to the housemaid, it would be 
 like asking Dr. Shattuck to pull a tooth!" 
 
 "Do you mean that in case of sickness one of 
 them would not lend a hand with another's 
 work ? " 
 
 " Oh, I don't mean that literally, but it would be 
 [42]
 
 AN ENGLISH INTERIOR 
 
 a favor that could not be counted on, and if it 
 happened often enough to have the look of estab- 
 lishing a precedent unless you have lived in 
 England you can have no understanding of what 
 a precedent means she would probably 'give 
 warning,' and if you think it pleasant to live in 
 the house for a month with a young person who 
 has given warning, you are mistaken ! " 
 
 "Well, why not pay her a month's wages and 
 ler her go?" 
 
 "You cause me to smile ! In the first place, it 
 would be considered extravagant, and, besides, 
 it might do the girl an injustice. It might be 
 thought a reflection on her character. The 'jus- 
 tice' of the English is, in my opinion, carried to 
 an extreme! Nor are these the only reasons. 
 You can't imagine the difficulties of replacing a 
 servant. Endless questions have to be asked, 
 such as whether she is Church of England or 
 'Chapel,' and much more intimate questions that 
 you would think and so do I are none of one's 
 business. It is not as it was in Boston, where if 
 Mary Maloney said ' I think I'll be leaving you, ' 
 all you had to do would be to step around into 
 Charles Street and tell your troubles to Mrs. 
 McCarthy, and, behold ! she would have 'A noice 
 girrl, not long over, not knowin' all the ways, 
 maybe, but willin' to learn, and comin' of decent 
 people.' It is true she wouldn't know a dust- 
 [43]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 pan from a skillet, but she would do what she 
 was told, and soon have an interest in the family 
 and be loyal to them. 
 
 "She would not join in family prayers, and in- 
 deed at first would run out into the pantry when 
 papa said grace, but in case of sickness she would 
 take part of her afternoon 'off' to go to church 
 to pray for the baby, or maybe burn a candle to 
 the saint who specialized in your trouble ! They 
 are not neat, they are not well trained, they are 
 not bigoted about truth, but they are human!" 
 
 "Maud Simpson!" I cried, "how many times 
 have I heard you say: 'If I only had nice English 
 servants I should ask for nothing more in life'? 
 I don't believe you mean it." 
 
 "Well, perhaps I don't. The fact is that under- 
 housemaid spoke to me this morning with that 
 correct insolence one cannot take hold of, and I 
 have been feeling all day as if I would rather be 
 'sassed' by Katie Hogan!" 
 
 X 
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE 
 
 IT was not till later in the day that I had an 
 
 opportunity of continuing my conversation with 
 
 Maud, and when I did I took it up where we had 
 
 left it, and said: "Well, at any rate there is no 
 
 [44]
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE 
 
 'under side' to the Miles 'pancake'! Miles, I 
 should explain, is the 'Nanny' or nurse. 
 
 "Really," said she, "that is almost literally 
 true. She is wonderful." 
 
 "Why is it," I asked, "that we have never been 
 able to get anything like that at home? When I 
 think of the Irish nurses who are kind and faith- 
 ful, no doubt, but quite untruthful, and speak 
 with an Irish-American accent which is making 
 the English language, as spoken in America, the 
 most unmusical tongue in the world, and then see 
 how these English children are taught, almost 
 from the cradle, to speak clearly, softly, and mu- 
 sically, I am ashamed of the way in which we 
 have wasted our heritage. Why is it we cannot 
 find women like our trained nurses who would 
 undertake the task of training the children to 
 speak the language of Shakespeare, of which we 
 hear so much and speak so little ? Why is it not 
 as interesting to teach good manners to the lead- 
 ers of our future society as to keep their pampered 
 little bodies healthy? Why are the girls who are 
 starving on the pay of a school-teacher unwilling 
 to undertake the fundamental education of the 
 favored classes, not as menials, but as honored 
 and respected friends, treated exactly as our 
 trained nurses are? Why is it?" 
 
 "For mercy's sake stop," cried Maud. "You 
 make my head swim with your 'whys' ! If I try 
 [45]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 to answer any of your questions you will say I 
 am talking like Thomas." 
 
 "Never mind whom you talk like, if only you 
 answer them," I replied. 
 
 "Well, I don't believe any one can answer 
 them all, but one difficulty in the importation of 
 the 'Nanny' is that you do not understand the 
 secret spring of English Me, i. e., of people of a 
 certain position. Of course a nursery like this 
 cannot be found in a house of people of small 
 means. The head nurse is waited on by the 
 second nurse, and is obeyed by the other servants. 
 She does not take her meals in the servants' 
 hall, but is served in the nursery. She holds the 
 position of an N. C. 0. in the army. The whole 
 American household would have to be changed 
 to make way for the English nurse." 
 
 "Very likely," I said, "but why should that 
 not be done? Look how the rich at home ape 
 the English with their silly footmen and insolent 
 butlers ! Surely they could find a place for such 
 a nurse as Miles, who would teach their children 
 to be interested in simple things and to use their 
 voices so that speaking would be like singing. 
 Why, I know English children of nine years of 
 age who have a vocabulary which a sophomore 
 with us might envy! Only yesterday when I 
 stopped Edward when he was on his way to work 
 in his garden, he said: 'Excuse me, Aunt Ruth, 
 [46]
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE 
 
 but my business is rather urgent!' 'Urgent!' 
 Could President Eliot have said better? And 
 yet he is far from being a prig. Indeed, to speak 
 frankly, he is a limb ! I tell you what the Ameri- 
 can home would have to do first: it would have 
 to dispense with the services of the trained nurse ! 
 I wouldn't admit it to an Englishwoman, but the 
 trained nurse is an American institution because 
 so many women 'enjoy ill health.' Think how 
 many houses there are where, if the mother needs 
 a holiday, say for a week or so, the trained nurse 
 is installed, and the temperature of a healthy 
 child is taken three times a day! Think of the 
 'homes' where the trained nurse is kept by the 
 year ! Is it any wonder Christian Science makes 
 headway? It is the inevitable reaction from all 
 this fussing about disease. I hope the day will 
 come when it will be an 'unseemly' thing to speak 
 of sickness. We spread contagion with our 
 tongues!" 
 
 "Whose talking like some one now?" said 
 Maud. "You sound like John." Then, when 
 she had finished laughing at her own wit, she 
 continued: "After all, you are talking about a 
 very limited class, what papa used to call 'fluff.'" 
 
 "That may be; still there are many people who 
 could well afford to pay an English nurse what 
 they are paying a trained nurse and save money 
 by so doing." 
 
 [47]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 "Yes, but it is more than a question of money 
 indeed, money has nothing to do with it. The 
 truth is the 'Nanny' is the last blooming of the 
 feudal system. These women have the hearts of 
 the old retainers. They identify themselves with 
 the families they serve, and are as proud of the 
 children as if they were their own. Can you 
 imagine Miles taking a place with the Rosenthals ? 
 No, she is a part of this family, and the children 
 no more think of parting with her than with me. 
 As long as she lives she will be a part of their 
 lives. The mails from all over the world bring 
 letters to the 'Nannies' from men whose names 
 the whole world knows. So, while you might 
 import Miles, you could not graft her into a social 
 democracy! A certain noble lord was once ac- 
 cused of being a 'snob.' He laughingly replied: 
 ' You should see my Nanny ! ' 
 
 "Then there is another difficulty such people 
 as Alice Burns and Elsie Graham, who do not see 
 their children once a week, who meet the doctor, 
 for whom the trained nurse sent, as they leave 
 the house to go to dinner or to the opera, and 
 ask him if 'it' is contagious, but are afraid to go 
 and see for themselves, might be willing to have 
 such an one as Miles, if it became the fashion, but 
 the typical American mother would not allow 
 another woman to have such authority over her 
 children as the English nurse has. It is she who 
 f 48 1
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE 
 
 decides whether the children shall be dosed, 
 whether they should be punished, and whether 
 their conduct has been such as to justify their 
 appearance at lunch, or, if so, whether they de- 
 serve ' sweets ' ! Can you imagine Mrs. Sher- 
 burne allowing that or Mr. Sherburne, either?" 
 
 I had to admit that I should not like that side 
 of it. 
 
 "Then," said Maud, "you had better give up 
 all thoughts of Miles !" 
 
 "But how do English mothers like it?" 
 
 "They accept it as part of the universe, like 
 vegetable marrow and cold rooms! But there is 
 something more that I do not suppose you can 
 understand. Englishwomen do not crave the 
 society of their children as American women do, 
 because they have the companionship of their 
 husbands to a degree unknown at home." 
 
 "You must be crazy! There is more true 
 companionship between husbands and wives in 
 America than anywhere else in the world." 
 
 "Don't get excited," said Maud. "It is not 
 the Fourth of July ! I was not speaking of qual- 
 ity but of quantity. The management of the 
 household is not left to women, as it is at home. 
 The husband and wife consult about a thousand 
 things that American husbands know nothing 
 about. If the husband is in politics, as Thomas is, 
 the wife visits the constituency and makes speeches 
 [49]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 as well as the man. At any dinner you will notice 
 that the women talk politics as intelligently as 
 the men do. Such intellectual companionship 
 would be impossible if the woman were tied down 
 to the nursery. How many really intelligent men 
 does one meet at a dinner-party in Boston or New 
 York? They will not accept such invitations, 
 because the women are not their intellectual com- 
 panions. They are beautifully gowned and lovely 
 to look at, but they expect to be admired every 
 minute ! Then take the institution of 'the week- 
 end.' If people are not stopping here, Thomas 
 and I are off to some other house. I have a quiet 
 mind because Miles is here. No, a 'Nanny' is 
 as necessary in an English house as is an N. C. 0. 
 in the army, for the rules of the house are equally 
 strict." 
 
 Some of those rules strike us as queer. For 
 instance, even when only the family is present, 
 dinner is a formal affair. Instead of gathering 
 in the hall as before lunch, we assemble in the 
 drawing-room, and when the hour strikes, the 
 butler appears and announces: "Dinner is served, 
 Sir Thomas !" I confess when I first heard that, 
 my eyebrows went up a trifle. Maud saw it and 
 laughed. "Yes," she said, "I felt that way at 
 first, and told Thomas that if the butler thought 
 he could ignore me, he was mistaken ! " 
 
 "I think, my dear, what you said was that 'he 
 [50]
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE 
 
 had another guess coming,'" said Thomas, with 
 a smile. 
 
 "I 'guess' I did," laughed Maud. "At any 
 rate, now that I understand the reason, I submit, 
 I hope, gracefully." 
 
 "You could not do anything otherwise," he 
 replied. 
 
 "Well," I exclaimed, "when the billing and 
 cooing are over, I too should like to know the 
 reason." 
 
 "Every country has its customs," said Sir 
 Thomas, I thought a bit stolidly. "America has 
 hers and England hers. The difference is that the 
 English can give a reason for theirs, whereas I 
 doubt if Americans always can." 
 
 I saw he was trying to get a "rise" out of me 
 and so answered: "Such as?" 
 
 "Well, for instance, if a man goes to church in 
 America, he takes the aisle seat, and if a lady 
 enters he steps out and allows her to pass, instead 
 of moving up as an Englishman would do. Is 
 there any reason for that?" 
 
 "Certainly," I answered. "That is a sur- 
 vival of the custom of the early days when the 
 men went to church carrying their flintlocks, 
 which they might be called upon to use against 
 the Indians at any minute, and could not wait 
 for the women and children to clear the way." 
 
 "That strikes me as an interesting explanation 
 [51]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 of the origin of a custom rather than as a reason 
 for its continuance. Indeed, I would suggest 
 that it is a custom that might be discontinued 
 with advantage, for it seems to have been carried 
 from the church to the trams, and is, I suppose, 
 accountable for the existence of what I have seen 
 in the American papers called 'the end-seat hog.' ' 
 
 We all laughed at this, but I said it looked to 
 me like a red herring. 
 
 But he said: "No, the English custom of hav- 
 ing the host rather than the hostess notified of 
 the serving of dinner is not merely a survival 
 from the days when women counted for little, 
 but has a practical value to-day. Inasmuch as 
 the host is expected to ' take in ' the lady of lead- 
 ing rank, it is of consequence that he, and not the 
 hostess, who comes last, should be informed when 
 the procession should start." 
 
 I must say that seems a reasonable explanation. 
 And when I think of the confusion that is apt to 
 follow at home when we try to be formal as, for 
 instance, when the host is talking to the prettiest 
 girl in the room up to the last minute, and his 
 wife has to inform him that dinner is ready, be- 
 cause his charmer has been so engrossing that he 
 has not heard the butler, and he hastens to escort 
 the "lady" of a congressman, I am inclined to 
 think we had better follow the English way or 
 [52]
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE 
 
 else revert to the primitive custom of "choosing 
 partners" ! 
 
 You will think I have been reading the Countess, 
 or one of the other papers which teach the middle 
 classes to ape the aristocracy, and are probably 
 muttering: "What earthly difference does it 
 make to us what are the customs of a society 
 which is soon to pass away ? " But you are wrong. 
 This particular thing is of no value, as you and I 
 both know. The point is, we Americans are con- 
 tinually saying that the English do not under- 
 stand us. Do we understand them ? If we would 
 take the trouble to learn the reason for some of 
 our differences, would it not do more for the peace 
 of the world than all those stupid banquets, with 
 their talk about "our common blood," when every 
 one knows that at least a third of those present 
 have not a drop of English blood in their veins, 
 and some of them, as Roosevelt is reported to 
 have said, "thank God for it"? 
 
 John is calling to know if I intend to type all 
 night, and you will long ago have wished that I 
 would stop! Well, you will not be troubled by 
 me soon again, for to-morrow we start on our trip, 
 and John will want to tell you about it himself. 
 
 [53 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 XI 
 
 THE FOURTH SPEED 
 
 THIS came near being my last letter to you. 
 No, that does not look right! What I mean is 
 the one before this came near being the last. 
 This is what happened: When we were leaving 
 the "Beeches" a few days ago, my brother-in-law, 
 in looking over the car, discovered the "fourth 
 speed." As he had never seen one on an English 
 car, he asked me what value it had. I was not 
 quite clear in my own mind as to its value, and 
 tried to recall what the agent had said about it. 
 Finally I remarked that I had not had occasion 
 to use it as yet, but that it was a good thing to 
 have, because when one was running at forty 
 miles or more, it steadied the car and took the 
 strain off the engine. 
 
 "Good Lord," he exclaimed, "you don't mean 
 to say you are going to drive forty miles an hour, 
 do you?" 
 
 "No, not at present, but it's a good thing to 
 have if one should want it." 
 
 " I should think it a jolly good thing to have if 
 I were tired of life or of my wife !" 
 
 This rather nettled me, but I said nothing, 
 chiefly because I did not know what to say ! But 
 I thought he was probably right, and that I could 
 [54]
 
 THE FOURTH SPEED 
 
 get all the speed I could control by running in 
 "high." 
 
 It was one of those days, cool, dry, shining, 
 which are as rare in England as they are common 
 at home, say in October. A day on which one 
 feels it is good to be alive. I was glad of this for 
 Ruth's sake, for she was sad at parting with her 
 sister and the children, and I was glad for my own 
 sake, because I like to feel that it is good to be 
 alive! I was also glad for the motor's sake, for 
 it was running "fine" ! Perhaps the reason both 
 we and the motor rejoiced was because both 
 human and mechanical engines function best 
 when there is an uninterrupted flow of the electric 
 current upon which both depend for their greatest 
 efficiency. At any rate, the car seemed alive, 
 and "pulled like a good 'un," as Sir Thomas's 
 chauffeur remarked as we drove away. 
 
 I know you have driven over the hills of the 
 "West Riding," and therefore remember that it 
 is all "up hill and down dale." But with you the 
 horse slowly mounted the hills and then held back 
 on the descent. But with a motor it is different; 
 the hills must be rushed so that one mounts half- 
 way up the opposing rise before the impetus of the 
 descent is lost. This requires constant shifting 
 of gears which becomes rather tiresome, and after 
 a while one begins to look for a bit of level ground 
 on which the car will run without much attention 
 [55]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 from the driver, or for a long straight hill, not too 
 steep, down which one can coast. 
 
 Such a hill we soon reached. But as we began 
 the descent I saw that it was steeper than I had 
 supposed, and so began the descent slowly. But 
 the car soon gained a greater speed than I wished, 
 so I threw her into second and pressed on the 
 foot-brake. Still she ran too fast, and I saw that 
 this was a steeper hill than I had ever met, and 
 much as I disliked doing so, knowing how ruinous 
 it is to the tires, I put on the emergency brake. 
 But what was my horror to find that we were 
 now shooting down the hill at a speed greater 
 than I had ever felt since the days when I tobog- 
 ganed! However, there was nothing more to be 
 done, and I could only hope that we should meet 
 nothing in the way. But that hope was short- 
 lived, for at the moment I saw, near the foot of 
 the hill, a picnic party which had backed their 
 pony-cart against the hedge, leaving the pony 
 standing across the road while they leisurely un- 
 packed a lunch-basket and other paraphernalia 
 for a feast. It was true there was room to pass 
 if one drove carefully and slowly, but we were 
 not going slowly! Indeed, one glance at the 
 speedometer brought my heart into my throat! 
 I have read of men who were cool in moments of 
 danger I must be a hero, for I was cold ! I could 
 only hope that Ruth had not seen, or, if she had, 
 [56]
 
 THE FOURTH SPEED 
 
 had not understood. I blew the klaxon furiously ; 
 saw a boy run to the pony's head. I blew again 
 two sharp blasts, and, fortunately, he had sense 
 enough to see he should be struck, and so jumped 
 clear. The pony threw back his head with a 
 snort, and we shot by without an inch to spare 
 between the cart and a solid stone post opposite. 
 Ruth was as white as death but uttered no sound. 
 The silence was broken by the voice of the child 
 who had been so near death. But what he said 
 seemed inadequate. It was : " Oh, I say ! " James 
 Freeman Clarke attributed the profanity of the 
 kindly boatmen on the Ohio River to a lack of 
 vocabulary. Perhaps that was the reason the 
 boy did not swear ! 
 
 Well, the longest lane has a turning and the 
 steepest hill a bottom, so at length the car began 
 to slow down as it struck the opposite rise, and 
 finally came to a full stop. 
 
 Then Ruth spoke. But, angel as she is, all she 
 said was: "Don't you think, dear, that was a 
 little fast?" 
 
 I said I thought it was, and that I would go 
 slower hereafter ! 
 
 I could not imagine what had happened. The 
 brakes were new, and while the chauffeur at the 
 "Beeches" had warned me that they were too 
 light, I thought that was because he did not un- 
 derstand the difference there is in weight between 
 [57]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 an English and an American car. As I say, I 
 could not understand it. The car had behaved 
 as if it were alive like a high-spirited horse, 
 "full of beans," who had taken the bit into its 
 teeth and bolted. 
 
 I descended and took a good look at every part 
 of the machine. I found that the foot-brake was 
 in order, but the emergency brake had not been 
 touched. I have no doubt that such a student of 
 the "subconscious" as yourself has already dis- 
 covered the answer to the riddle. Yes, you are 
 right ! It was Sir Thomas's foolishness in talking 
 about the "fourth speed," as I was leaving, that 
 had lodged in my subconscious mind and led me 
 to pull, not the emergency brake, but the fourth- 
 speed lever ! 
 
 I asked a laborer, plodding home to his dinner, 
 the name of the little hamlet at the top of the 
 hill. He answered: "Sawley." 
 
 "Why, that can hardly be," I replied. "I 
 passed Sawley soon after leaving Ripon." 
 
 "Ay," he replied, "there be two of 'em." 
 
 "Well, one is enough for me," I answered. 
 
 He made no reply; simply stared at me as if 
 he thought I was a fool. I guess he was right ! 
 
 The motor-car has completed the work begun 
 
 by the bicycle of breaking down "the middle wall 
 
 of partition" which divided Englishmen from 
 
 strangers. The motor is a letter of introduction 
 
 [58]
 
 THE FOURTH SPEED 
 
 to every owner. At the inn where we stopped for 
 lunch were a young couple who, like ourselves, 
 were making a trip, and when I asked some ques- 
 tion about roads they opened their maps and not 
 only gave us the desired information but also a 
 valuable "tip," from which I learned on authority 
 what otherwise I could have learned only by ex- 
 perience that is, by loss of time and labor. 
 
 My new friend, for such I must call him, was 
 much interested on learning we had come so far, 
 and expressed a wish to see an American car. 
 He was greatly impressed by the "self-starter," 
 but insisted as did every other Englishman who 
 spoke to me on the subject that the car was too 
 light to stand up as an English car does. He also 
 said that he had been told that the American 
 brakes were not to be depended upon. 
 
 This led to a confession of my folly of the morn- 
 ing. I should have thought twice before telling 
 it to a fellow countryman, for he would have 
 thought it a high joke, and have "rubbed it in." 
 But this serious young man was filled with horror 
 at our narrow escape from death, and was alto- 
 gether sympathetic. This led him to give me 
 the "tip" of which I have spoken. It was very 
 simple: "In descending a hill," said he, "judge 
 its angle of descent and adjust your gear accord- 
 ingly, then switch off the current, let in the clutch, 
 and the engine will act as a brake. You will 
 [59]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 always have the brakes in reserve, but seldom use 
 them. I have been over the highest passes of the 
 Alps, with the exception of the Stelvio, without 
 touching the brake." 
 
 "All's well that ends well," but I wish I might 
 have known this simple rule earlier in the day ! 
 
 XII 
 
 "JAEL THE WIFE OF HEBER THE KENITE" 
 
 JOHN has not written lately because the car has 
 been running well! He says you care only for 
 "thrillers," and that there have been none since 
 he last wrote. "Laus Deo!" add I. So to-day, 
 which is a Sunday, I am writing in his place. 
 
 I am sorry to say I am not at all pleased with 
 him! You know how unconventional and out- 
 spoken he is; well, I have had to tell him more 
 than once that while his way of talking is well 
 enough at home, where people know and love him, 
 and where, even if they do not know him, they 
 are more or less like him, and so understand that 
 what he says is not to be taken au pied de la letlre, 
 here people are different their yea is yea, and 
 their nay nay. The English are not only matter 
 of fact, but have an awful reverence for truth, 
 and do not understand what John means when 
 [60]
 
 "JAEL THE WIFE OF HEBER THE KENITE" 
 
 he says that "Lying can be the highest form of 
 truth"! So when a man says a thing they not 
 unnaturally think he means it. 
 
 Well, all this introduction leads to the events 
 of the day. This morning we went to the cathe- 
 dral. I must say it was a shock to find that 
 there were less than a hundred people in the 
 choir where the service was held. However, all 
 went well enough until the sermon: the preacher 
 announced no, sung his text, "Blessed among 
 women shall Jael the wife of Heber the Kenite 
 be. Blessed shall she be among women in the 
 tent," and then proceeded: "We will think of 
 Jael, my dear brethren, not merely as the wife of 
 Heber the Kenite, but rather as a type of the 
 Blessed Virgin." What followed I shall never 
 know, for at this moment John picked up his hat 
 and umbrella and left, and I, fearing he might 
 be faint, quickly followed. When we got outside, 
 I said, "Are you sick, dear?" and he replied: 
 "Not yet, but I should have been had I waited 
 a moment longer." 
 
 "Was the air close?" I innocently asked. 
 
 "No, it was as damp and drafty as usual, but 
 I could not have stood that creature another 
 minute." 
 
 Then followed a diatribe on the Established 
 Church, which I will spare you. Before he had 
 finished, there was not one stone left upon another 
 [61 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 of the cathedral system! "Such an array of 
 clergy, such a choir, such an organ, such every- 
 thing to make the service glorious, and yet fewer 
 people than could be found in a mission chapel 
 the extravagance of it, the futility of it why, 
 half the people there were American tourists ! 
 Why don't they take the money and use it for 
 some good purpose?" 
 
 '"This ointment might have been sold for 
 much,'" I quoted. 
 
 "No, you don't," he growled. "Was the 
 'whole house filled with the odor of the ointment' ? 
 Is England? Is this town? Was the great 
 cathedral? Was the choir even? There was no 
 odor of ointment. There was nothing but a 
 stench!" 
 
 "John!" I protested. 
 
 "Well, perhaps that was too strong. But, hon- 
 estly, was there any feeling of the majesty of 
 God there? I say nothing of his love any pity 
 for poor struggling souls? 'A type of the Blessed 
 Virgin,' forsooth ! If he must talk of Jael, why 
 did he not tell the truth and remind the people 
 that if she were living to-day she would be in 
 jail no, that is not a pun waiting for the report 
 of the grand jury ? Is it not due to Mary's Son 
 that she can no longer be counted ' blessed ' ? It 
 is not the blasphemy, it is the unreality of the 
 whole performance which is so dreadful. The 
 [62]
 
 "JAEL THE WIFE OF HEBER THE KENITE" 
 
 preacher no doubt is a decent, law-abiding Eng- 
 lishman, who would be horrified if he read such 
 a story in the Times, but because it is embedded 
 in the Bible he considers it his duty to find a 
 mystic meaning in it. This sort of talk is what 
 leads to moral confusion, and is one of the reasons 
 why the church is losing its hold on thoughtful 
 people. The day was when the 'world' was full 
 of darkness and the church full of light, but now 
 the 'world' has a clearer moral vision than the 
 church or, at any rate, than that preposterous 
 creature has." 
 
 By this time, as you may believe, there was not 
 much of the "joy of the sanctuary" left in me! 
 We walked down to the river, and after a long 
 silence John began to recite: 
 
 "O Mary, go and call the cattle home, 
 And call the cattle home, 
 And call the cattle home, 
 Across the sands o' Dee." 
 
 The tears came to my eyes, and John said, 
 now quietly and reverently: "He was a man" 
 meaning Kingsley "and there must be some like 
 him. But, not 'in king's houses' ! Why did not 
 the preacher call that Mary a type of the Virgin? 
 Why didn't he recite the 'Sands o' Dee'? Is it 
 not as truly inspired as Judges?" 
 
 By this time my ill humor had passed, and I 
 r 63 1
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 said: "Perhaps because he could not recite it as 
 well as you." 
 
 John laughed, and then said, "I'm sorry. Let 
 us try and forget him," meaning, I suppose, the 
 preacher, who probably was at that moment eat- 
 ing his Sunday roast and listening to his wife's 
 praises of the sermon ! 
 
 In the afternoon I announced that I thought of 
 going to even-song, and to my dismay John said 
 he would go with me ! I thought it was running 
 into temptation, and intimated as much, but he 
 said he was going to do penance. Well, it proved 
 to be a lovely penance! The sermon was so 
 beautiful and simple, on the words "I know where 
 thou dwellest." It was about home where we 
 dwell. "Is it such," said the preacher, "as we 
 should wish Our Lord to visit?" He was an old 
 man, and the sermon was like the talk of a father 
 to his children. It radiated love. Then came 
 the anthem, "Love Divine," and as the voice of 
 the tenor was lifted up the boy's soprano followed, 
 rising still higher, till in one final "Love Divine" 
 the great arches of the roof re-echoed with the 
 melody. I confess that I wept, and John said 
 softly: "How perfect it all was! I understand 
 now why the townspeople the nave was filled 
 come to such a service." 
 
 So we wended our way back to the hotel, feel- 
 ing that the day had not been altogether lost. 
 [64]
 
 "AS IT WAS IN THE BEGINNING" 
 
 XIII 
 "AS IT WAS IN THE BEGINNING" 
 
 I SAID that the day was not altogether lost, 
 but, alas! it was not yet over. We were sitting 
 in the garden after the cold supper always served 
 in lieu of dinner on Sunday evenings. John was 
 smoking his pipe and all was peaceful when a 
 man sitting near us suddenly turned to John and 
 said: "I saw you in the cathedral this morning, 
 but as you left hurriedly I feared you might be 
 ill. I hope not." 
 
 Why can't John be good all the time? Or, if 
 that is not possible, why can't he tell a lie? 
 Surely the latter would have been better than to 
 blurt out: "No, thank you. I was quite well, 
 but when I found the talk was to be about Jael, 
 I thought it best to take my wife out. I don't 
 think Jael is a proper person to be spoken about 
 in the presence of decent people." 
 
 "God bless me!" exclaimed the other, "how 
 extraordinary!" 
 
 Fortunately, at that moment the man in charge 
 of the garage appeared with the information that 
 he had succeeded in getting the distilled water 
 needed for the batteries, as the chemist's shop 
 was now open, and John departed with him to 
 see to dropping it in. 
 
 [65]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 There was a long silence, and then the stranger 
 said: "Are you an American?" 
 
 When I told him, he said: "Really, I should 
 never have suspected it!" 
 
 How thankful I was that the chemist had opened 
 his shop just when he did, for that "compliment" 
 for such of course it was intended to be affects 
 John as "sheeny" does an Irishman. 
 
 "Of course," continued my neighbor, "I saw 
 at once that your husband was an American. 
 But how does it happen that you speak without 
 an accent?" 
 
 I laughed and said: "Probably because I had 
 lived until my marriage in Boston, and am of 
 pure English stock, whereas my husband is of 
 mixed race, possibly having no English blood at 
 all in him." 
 
 "Dear me! You don't mean to say Indian or 
 negro, do you?" 
 
 Thank goodness that distilled water has to be 
 put in drop by drop, or John would have been in 
 the place he said the wife of Heber should be in ! 
 I explained that my husband's ancestors on one 
 side had come from Ulster, and on the other 
 from Wales, so that he did not have quite the 
 same feeling about England that I have, whose 
 people came from Norfolk and Devon. 
 
 He remarked it was a pity I suppose for John, 
 not for me but I did not inquire. It is, however, 
 [66]
 
 "AS IT WAS IN THE BEGINNING" 
 
 a funny thing that while the English speak of 
 curiosity as an American characteristic, they 
 never seem to think there is any reason they 
 should not ask us any questions which come into 
 their heads. John, to whom, I need not say, I 
 am indebted for this observation, says that it is 
 because they look on us as freaks ! And that just 
 as children at the circus will pinch the legs of 
 those unfortunate creatures called freaks a thing 
 they would never dream of doing to "humans" 
 so the English take liberties with us which they 
 would never take with their own countrymen. 
 But you know how he talks ! 
 
 My new acquaintance was evidently not yet 
 satisfied, for he continued: "You know that was 
 rather an original remark of your husband's about 
 the sermon this morning." 
 
 I replied that he was rather an original per- 
 son. 
 
 "But," he said, "if you once begin that sort of 
 thing, where will it end?" 
 
 "What sort of thing?" I asked. 
 
 "Why, talking about those people in the Bible 
 as if they were real people living to-day, don't 
 you know." 
 
 "Don't you think of them as real?" 
 
 "I don't think of them at all." 
 
 "But when they are spoken of in a sermon, 
 what do you think?" 
 
 [67]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 "Why, to tell you the truth, I am apt to take 
 a little snooze. I have done my part in the ser- 
 vice, made the responses and that sort of thing, 
 you know, and when it comes to the sermon, 
 that's parson's job. He has to do something, 
 and I take it for granted he knows his business 
 and pay no attention to him. But if I once 
 started in to consider whether he was right or 
 wrong, where should I end? I know jolly well 
 that Sunday would be no day of rest ! Look at 
 your husband, now he is all worked up over the 
 sermon this morning, but it did me no harm. To 
 tell you the truth, I don't think I ever met a 
 man before who cared what a parson says. Well, 
 perhaps I don't quite mean that, but what sur- 
 prised me was that he talked as if he had been 
 listening to a speech by Lloyd George or Asquith, 
 or one of those men, on a subject that really 
 matters." 
 
 "But you think the clergy ought to talk on 
 things that really matter?" 
 
 "In a way, yes. But not as a regular thing. 
 That is the mistake the Non-conformists make. 
 I have a son-in-law who goes to chapel, and at 
 Sunday dinner the family talk over the sermon 
 as if they had been to a political meeting. I 
 don't call that making Sunday a day of rest. 
 Why should I want to have a parson tell me what 
 to think or what to do? What does he know 
 [68]
 
 "AS IT WAS IN THE BEGINNING" 
 
 about the life of men? I expect I know what I 
 ought to do as well as he does." 
 "Why then have a sermon at all?" 
 "Well, it's the custom, and I believe in keeping 
 up the old customs. And, besides, the parson 
 ought to have something to do. Of course in a 
 large town where there are working people, with 
 a lot of drunkenness and fighting and that sort of 
 thing, the parsons are pretty busy. As I said to 
 my son-in-law a fortnight ago, when he was say- 
 ing the Established Church ought to go, the 
 money ought to be taken for other purposes, and 
 all that sort of thing which the radicals are always 
 saying, well, I said to him, 'You don't look deep 
 enough. Think what the church saves the coun- 
 try every year in police alone ! The Established 
 Church is the bulwark of society,' I said, 'and if 
 you break that down, what will take its place? 
 The people who need it least will build churches 
 for themselves, and those who need it most will 
 have none. And, let me tell you, when that day 
 comes, you will soon learn whether you are pay- 
 ing less or more to maintain order. And that is 
 not all,' I said, for by this time I was pretty hot, 
 'the Established Church keeps alive the spirit of 
 the empire. But in your chapels your ministers 
 talk as if there were other countries as good as 
 England. They are a lot of radicals and have no 
 respect for land, yet it is on the land England 
 [69]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 depends, and the church knows that and never 
 offends the landlord.' He didn't like this over- 
 much^ and I doubt if I go there soon again. No, 
 I am. all for the church; what I say is: 'As it was 
 in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world 
 without end, Amen ! ' ' 
 
 And with that confession of; faith he knocked 
 the ashes out of his pipe and stumped off to bed. 
 
 How will it all end? Will the church set its 
 face against the rising tide of democracy and 
 make Canute its patron saint? I don't dare 
 ask John. I wish you were here that we might 
 talk things over ! You would be so sympathetic, 
 for you love England dearly, which I fear John 
 does not, and therefore, I feel, cannot understand 
 her. Well, I comfort myself by thinking what I 
 believe you would say: "England has the 'root 
 of the matter' in her, and if a great crisis were to 
 arise, Englishmen will show that they are to-day 
 what they have always been, and the church will 
 follow the higher call. England will never do 
 penance and sit in a sheet, in the face of the na- 
 tions confessing the 'sins and offenses of her 
 youth,' but she will set her house in order and 
 meet the new age with courage and faith and hope, 
 as she has ever done, and the 'glory of the latter 
 house will be greater than that of the former'! 
 'As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall 
 be, ' embodies a great truth which your muddle- 
 [70]
 
 RURAL ENGLAND 
 
 headed friend was trying to express. He thought, 
 and alas ! he is not alone in so thinking, that the 
 form makes the stability, whereas it is the eternal 
 stability of the English character in which he be- 
 lieves, and so do I." 
 
 So with these comforting thoughts I am going 
 to bed. My Tory friend was right in one respect 
 it has not been a restful day 1 
 
 XIV 
 RURAL ENGLAND 
 
 ON leaving "Barchester" we took the road to 
 Gloucester. I think it safe to say that it is the 
 finest road for motoring in England, which is 
 equivalent to saying in the world. The French 
 roads, I am told, are in some ways superior, but 
 so straight and hard and white that travelling on 
 them soon becomes monotonous. Then they are 
 so artificial, running like the road the Tsar is said 
 to have laid out with a ruler, between Petersburg 
 and Moscow! But the English roads run nat- 
 urally, with many a turn from town to town, just 
 as man first found it easy to walk. Of course we 
 now have roads at home equal to any for the 
 first year or two but think how many generations 
 have used these roads, and always, I imagine, 
 [71 1
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 kept them in repair. The difference is like that 
 between a granite bridge and one of our new 
 concrete ones. At first there seems nothing to 
 choose between them; but when the rain and 
 frost of a few seasons have done their work, the 
 one has begun to look dingy and shabby, while 
 the other has gained in dignity. 
 
 Of course it is not only the surface of the road 
 which makes motoring on it so delightful; it is 
 the continuous succession of lovely rural scenes. 
 For example, we had not gone many miles when 
 we met a horseman an ancient groom we sup- 
 posed riding along the grass by the roadside and 
 followed by a pack of hounds, which he was "walk- 
 ing." Ruth jumped from the car and begged 
 to be allowed to take a kodak of them. He 
 smilingly called them together, the older ones 
 looking up into his face and the pups still nosing 
 about the grass. The light was good and the 
 promise of a satisfactory picture excellent. 
 
 The "groom" asked if he might have a picture 
 when the film had been developed, which Ruth 
 said she would be delighted to send if he would 
 give her his address. 
 
 "Just address it, ma'am, to 'James the Hunts- 
 man, The Kennels, Blankshire.'" 
 
 "But your last name?" she asked. 
 
 "That is my name, ma'am, James the Hunts- 
 man." 
 
 [72]
 
 RURAL ENGLAND 
 
 So we learned that not only was he not a groom 
 but that we were not in the twentieth century but 
 still in feudal England, where a man's occupation 
 was his designation the individual not having 
 yet emerged ! That his status should be fixed for 
 life was evidently as satisfactory to "James the 
 Huntsman" as, it is to be presumed, was his 
 master's, whether knight or baronet, to him. 
 
 " It is like a scene from ' Ivanhoe,' " said Ruth, 
 when we were again under way. "If we were a 
 little farther to the east, in Northamptonshire, 
 where Sherwood Forest lies, I have no doubt we 
 should meet Gurth the serf, or Robin Hood !" 
 
 "No," said I, "the serfs are working in factories, 
 and Robin Hood is in the 'city.'" 
 
 "You talk h'ke William Jennings Bryan," 
 mocked Ruth. 
 
 A few miles farther on we came to another 
 England. Again we met a horseman. I said 
 this time a "groom," but Ruth said she was sure 
 he would call himself "chevalier." 
 
 Whoever he was he looked noble enough to be 
 a duke. He was riding a seal-brown horse whose 
 coat shone like a chestnut in the sunlight. I no- 
 ticed that the horse was restive, and so shut off 
 the engine till he should pass. The rider thanked 
 me, touching his cap so I suppose he could not 
 have been a duke and remarked that the horse 
 was "full of beans." 
 
 [73]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 I said it was a superb animal, and the groom, 
 leaning forward to pat his neck, for the horse 
 was still nervous, replied: "He ought to be, sir, 
 for he's own brother to" I am sorry to say I 
 have forgotten the name "winner of the Derby." 
 So we had met the aristocracy, after all ! 
 
 Not long after this we met a flock of sheep. 
 Again we stopped. But we got no thanks from 
 the surly shepherd Ruth said because he was so 
 tired but the panting dog, who ran from side 
 to side on the road, gave us a grateful glance, as 
 much as to say: " I am glad you did that, for had 
 you kept on, these fools would have been all over 
 the road, and I should have been beaten." 
 
 But it was not only the passengers on the 
 "king's highway" who kept us entertained not 
 to say entranced but houses and gardens on 
 either side made it hard to keep the tenth com- 
 mandment I 
 
 When I said this to Ruth, she replied that it 
 could hardly be my neighbor's wife whom I cov- 
 eted, which was true, if cattish, for the ones we 
 saw were more worthy than alluring! The ox 
 and the ass were not in evidence, but I suspect 
 Ruth coveted the man servant, and specially the 
 maid servant, of whom we caught glimpses from 
 time to time, flitting across the well-trimmed 
 lawns or standing at the servants' entrance, gos- 
 siping with the butcher or the baker or the candle- 
 [74]
 
 RURAL ENGLAND 
 
 stick-maker what difference can it make to a 
 young woman who is forbidden to have "follow- 
 ers"? 
 
 It was the houses which tempted me. There 
 was an infinite variety to choose from Eliza- 
 bethan, Tudor, Jacobean (I am not sure I am 
 always right about the period) but I recognized 
 the real Queen Anne. Here was a "gentleman's 
 residence" and there a tiny cottage covered with 
 climbing roses. I noted scores of Elizabethan 
 houses with chimneys as graceful as the smoke 
 which curled from them. Why cannot a modern 
 architect design a chimney which will draw the 
 eye as well as the smoke? And the gardens! 
 Those of the poor as well as of the rich were a 
 riot of color. There were dogs and ponies and 
 "governess-carts," and all the things we are 
 familiar with in the illustrated papers. As I 
 looked at all these delectable things, it seemed to 
 me that England was an earthly paradise; as old 
 Gaunt says, "A second Eden." I grew melan- 
 choly as I remembered the "L" and the crowded 
 subway, and the noise and the dirt of our chief 
 city, the struggle for existence and the prevailing 
 discontent every man striving to surpass his 
 neighbor no one content with that station in 
 life to which "it had pleased God to call him." 
 How many Americans, I said to myself, believe 
 God has called them to anything? Here, I con- 
 [75]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 tinued, is peace and contentment. Would God 
 that I were there! 
 
 Now Ruth has an uncanny way of knowing of 
 what one is thinking, so I was not startled when 
 she broke into my revery by saying: 
 
 "Yes, it is all beautiful, but how long could 
 you stand it? I do not mean what you now see, 
 but what you do not see! How many people 
 have taken off their caps to us this morning 
 simply because they believe us to belong to the 
 'gentry'? In that last village through which we 
 passed, did the children 'bob' to us because they 
 recognized our superiority in character or educa- 
 tion ? You would not have been the vicar of that 
 lovely Norman church we passed five miles back 
 one month before there would have been trouble ! 
 The 'servility' of the Blower classes' would so 
 have gotten on your nerves that you would have 
 insulted some laborer for the satisfaction of hav- 
 ing him answer you like a man ! You would find 
 another thing, which is that 'kowtowing' is not 
 confined to one class. If the laborer 'kowtows' to 
 the vicar, the vicar must 'kowtow' to the lord of 
 the manor." 
 
 "Why, Ruth," I cried, "where is Bryan now? 
 You talk like the ladies on the soap-boxes in 
 Union Square!" 
 
 "You forget," she said, "that I am not talking 
 [76]
 
 RURAL ENGLAND 
 
 about myself. I should adore to have the school 
 children 'bob' to me, and would be quite willing 
 in turn to 'bob' to the Lady Emeline or to the 
 Dowager Countess. But you! Really, John, I 
 sometimes think you know yourself less than any 
 one I ever met ! " 
 
 "It's lucky I have you to show me what I am 
 like," I growled. 
 
 "Indeed it is,'* she cheerfully replied. "I'll 
 tell you whom you are likei you are exactly like 
 Crugan!" 
 
 To show you how absurd the comparison is, I 
 must tell you something about Tom Crugan. He 
 lived in our ward before he made his fortune, and 
 was a good fellow is still, so far as I know ! More 
 than once he had helped me when some poor 
 wretch had got into trouble and needed a little 
 "influence." When he got the contract for a 
 section of the subway, he made a lot of money 
 I hope honestly ! Then he made a lucky invest- 
 ment in real estate, which, curiously enough, the 
 city found it must have at an advance in price 
 and then Tom and his family made the grand 
 tour. Mrs. Crugan kept herself in the back- 
 ground, but the girls, who were real Irish beauties, 
 had a succes fou. One of them married an Italian 
 prince, and the other a German count. Well, 
 Tom stayed abroad about two years and then 
 [77]'
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 suddenly returned. He came down to our part 
 of the town soon after, to look after some prop- 
 erty he held there, and I saw him. 
 
 "Hello, Crugan," I said. "I am glad to see 
 you back. Did you like Europe?" 
 
 "I did for a while," he replied, "but the best 
 day of the trip was when I set foot in Hoboken. 
 The carriage was there to meet us, and when I 
 had put my wife in, she says to me: 'Ain't you 
 comin' too, Tom?' 
 
 " ' Not in a carriage, I ain't,' says I. ' And what 
 is more, if that coachman touches his hat to me 
 again, I'm liable to do him an injury! You go 
 on up, mother, and I'll be there most as soon as 
 you, anyway.' 
 
 "So I got onto a Christopher Street ferry, and 
 caught a crosstown and swung onto a Fourth 
 Avenue and went out onto the front platform to 
 smoke a cigar and watch the driver handle his 
 team. Pretty soon a mail-wagon got across the 
 tracks, and he had to pull up pretty sharp, and 
 the handle of his brake caught me in the stomach. 
 Did he throw a fit because he had hit a man who 
 was smoking a twenty-five-cent cigar? He did 
 not. He turns to me and says: 'Why the hell 
 can't you keep your belly out of my brake?' 
 Say, I could have kissed that man!" 
 
 [78]
 
 EDUCATION 
 
 XV 
 
 EDUCATION 
 
 ONE day at Gloucester and one at Wells enabled 
 us to get only hasty impressions of each. The 
 west front of the latter was not so impressive as 
 the pictures of it had led me to expect. Indeed, 
 it looks like a sort of afterthought, and might as 
 well have been put a hundred feet farther away 
 for all the connection it has with the cathedral. 
 However, when I am made an English bishop, 
 it is Wells I shall choose for the bishop's gar- 
 den! 
 
 But Gloucester, like Rome, would require a life- 
 time to exhaust. The whole history of western 
 ecclesiastical architecture is built into its walls. 
 Like the Engh'sh constitution, it is neither an 
 evolution nor a revolution. It is a series of new 
 things put onto the old. Perhaps for that reason 
 it is so impressive. It is not logical, but it works ! 
 The rough Saxon stonework was not torn down 
 when the more stately Norman was added but left 
 standing to bear witness to the past. And so the 
 various styles of Gothic, from the early pointed 
 to the highly decorative, have in turn been added, 
 and the result is a structure in some ways the 
 most impressive in England and perfectly rep- 
 [79]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 resentative of the English people. I thought of 
 "The Chambered Nautilus": 
 
 " Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, 
 As the swift seasons roll: 
 Let each new temple, nobler than the last, 
 Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast 
 Till thou at length art free, 
 Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea." 
 
 From Wells we returned to Bath, crossing the 
 Mendips, or are they the Cotswolds? On the 
 steep ascent we passed two bicyclists, a parson 
 and a very pretty girl, evidently his daughter. I 
 wished we had two vacant seats to offer them, for 
 it is a stiff climb. We did offer the one we had 
 to the pretty girl, but though she looked tired, she 
 was a good sport, and declined to leave her father 
 to toil up the hill alone. I hope he was grateful, 
 but Englishmen have a way of accepting sacrifices 
 from their womenfolk which we do not under- 
 stand. At any rate, it was pleasant to see the 
 companionship between the two. 
 
 We spent the night at Bath in a pretentious and 
 uncomfortable hotel, and moralized on Beau 
 Brummel and his preposterous patron. I can 
 never forgive Sir Walter Scott for his laudation 
 of the Prince Regent, but, on the other hand, 
 Thackeray's picture is as relentless as a portrait 
 by Sargent. 
 
 [80]
 
 EDUCATION 
 
 From Bath we passed over to Winchester, 
 taking in a corner of the New Forest en route. 
 
 After we had seen the great cathedral and col- 
 lege at Winchester, we walked to St. Gross, which 
 is a home for old men. I have forgotten how old 
 it is, but the custom of receiving pilgrims remains 
 unchanged through all the many years. Each 
 "pilgrim" is given a piece of bread and a mug of 
 ale at the porter's lodge. We pilgrims were not 
 hungry enough to enjoy either. 
 
 I had a letter to the head master, who, unfor- 
 tunately, was away, but one of the house masters 
 received us kindly and showed us about. 
 
 Of course the talk turned on education and the 
 relative merits of English and American schools. 
 Our guide had never been in America, but if you 
 think that prevented him from having definite 
 views on American methods of education, you do 
 not know the English ! He was inclined to admit 
 that what he called our "board schools" were, 
 perhaps, in some respects better than the English, 
 but when it came to the question of "public" 
 schools such as the Phillips Academies at Exeter 
 and Andover, or St. Paul's or Groton, he found 
 it difficult to speak what he believed to be the 
 truth and at the same time be polite. So he con- 
 tented himself with saying that the English 
 standard is much higher; which, I fear, cannot be 
 denied. I asked him what boys of fifteen were 
 [81]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 reading in Latin, and when he replied, "Caesar 
 and the first books of Virgil," I said it would be 
 the same with us. But when he explained that 
 by "reading" he did not mean merely trans- 
 lation into English, but also retranslation into 
 Latin in the style of the author, and added that 
 boys must be able to write good Latin prose of 
 their own composition, I gave up ! 
 
 I asked him how he accounted for the fact that 
 the standard was higher with them than with 
 us. He said because English boys studied harder 
 and longer hours than our boys do. He thought 
 the three months' holiday fatal to continuous 
 progress. "Then," he added, "your boys go to 
 school too late. English boys are sent to a pre- 
 paratory school at nine often at eight years of 
 age, so they acauire habits of study before yours 
 begin." 
 
 Much of this is no doubt true, but there are 
 some things he does not know and which, mirabile 
 dictu, I did not tell him! Do you ask "why"? 
 Well, to tell you the truth, I did begin, but soon 
 found he was one of those Englishmen who, having 
 made up his mind, does not care to listen to new 
 evidence. Moreover, the schoolmaster the world 
 over is in the habit of teaching and does not care 
 to be taught certainly not by one not of the 
 guild. No doubt you will say to yourself that 
 this is not a peculiarity of the schoolmaster but 
 [82]
 
 EDUCATION 
 
 is true of the clergy as well. However, in this 
 case there were some things not taken into ac- 
 count. For instance, the holidays may be too 
 long, but in our climate the boy who was kept at 
 work till the 1st of August would not learn 
 much more than he does now. Moreover, I ques- 
 tion if the American boy, with his nervous tem- 
 perament, is capable of the long hours of applica- 
 tion which the more stolid English lad bears with 
 ease. Whether it is an advantage, from the 
 standpoint of scholarship, for a boy who has just 
 emerged from infancy to be sent from home, I 
 do not know. But the reason it can be done in 
 England and could not be done in America 
 except in the case of those poor little unfortunates 
 whose mothers and fathers have been divorced 
 is that in England the decision lies with the 
 father, whereas with us it is the mother who has 
 the final word. That it is desirable to send a 
 child from home before there has been time to 
 instil lasting principles, I fancy few American 
 mothers would admit. Will English mothers 
 when they have gained the independence of their 
 transatlantic sisters continue the custom? Who 
 can say ? 
 
 I admit that all this sounds like what the 
 
 lawyers call "confession and avoidance," but I 
 
 believe there is a reason for the higher standard 
 
 in England which perhaps our guide did not 
 
 [83]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 know, or was too polite to mention, but which, 
 were it recognized, would lift our standard with- 
 out resorting to the remedies he suggested. I 
 suspect the real difficulty is that we have no such 
 large body of well-trained university men to draw 
 upon for teachers as England has. We find it 
 difficult with so many attractive and lucrative 
 careers open to young men to find many who are 
 willing to make teaching a life-work, and therefore 
 must do the best we can with the material we 
 have. In other words, before we change our 
 system would it not be well for us to make the 
 profession of teaching as attractive with us as it 
 is in England? What college president with us 
 has such a position of influence, such a house and 
 salary, as has the head master of Winchester, 
 Eton, or Harrow? 
 
 You will be inclined to say as Prof. Corson did 
 when I asked him, when I was a freshman, what 
 subject he would suggest for a "composition." 
 "Any except 'Education'!" 
 
 [84]
 
 A BY-ELECTION 
 
 XVI 
 
 A BY-ELECTION 
 
 FROM Winchester we motored to Salisbury. 
 The spire of the cathedral is perhaps the most 
 beautiful in the world, but the cathedral as a 
 whole did not impress me as much as I had ex- 
 pected. Perhaps I was still under the influence 
 of Gloucester, or more likely of the regal shrine 
 at Winchester. At any rate, when I learned that 
 it had been built by one man, I lost interest. I 
 am too familiar with that sort of work ! The 
 charm of most of the English cathedrals is due to 
 the fact that of most of them it is true that 
 
 "Like some tall palm 
 The stately fabric grew." 
 
 Salisbury did not grow; it was built! It has 
 an air of artificiality about it that not even the 
 beautiful spire, which is a later addition, can 
 atone for. 
 
 It is fair to say that Ruth did not agree with 
 me. To her it seemed one of the most beautiful 
 of all we had seen. Indeed, she said the reason 
 I did not appreciate it was because I was influ- 
 enced by "Martin Chuzzlewit"! That was be- 
 cause I had asked her from which angle she sup- 
 [85]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 posed Mr. Pecksniff had first drawn it. At any 
 rate, we had to agree to differ. 
 
 As we got into the car at the gate of the close 
 a gentleman who had been looking it over asked 
 whither we were bound. When I told him across 
 the Plain, he strongly advised me to avoid the 
 highway, which, he said, was quite uninteresting, 
 and to take a road which, by many a turning, 
 would show the Plain as the highway could not 
 do. I do not know that man's name, and I do 
 not wish to meet him again ! He probably is one 
 of those men who take pleasure in walking a 
 form of exercise which I detest ! He certainly has 
 never driven a car. Had he done so he would 
 know that there is nothing so distressing to a 
 motorist as a "picturesque" road ! We descended 
 into little gullies and mounted little hillocks till 
 my back was nearly broken with changing gears, 
 and the car looked as if I had bought it second- 
 hand and used it hard ! 
 
 We stopped long enough at Stonehenge to get 
 an impression of its dreariness, and then pushed 
 on to a village on the north side of the Plain. We 
 reached there late for lunch, and learned that the 
 name of the place was Divises, and that a by- 
 election for member of parliament was in prog- 
 ress. 
 
 The inn was crowded to suffocation, and some 
 of the loungers had had as much to drink as was 
 [86]
 
 A BY-ELECTION 
 
 good for them, and some a little more. I was in 
 no amiable frame of mind, as you may imagine. 
 No one would pay any attention to us they were 
 too busy serving drink. 
 
 I learned that the question at issue was what 
 we call the "saloon." A Labor member was 
 standing on a platform which called for the 
 regulation of the public house, while the Con- 
 servative candidate was for "free rum." One 
 would have thought that here was an issue which 
 would divide the sheep from the goats. But there 
 were other questions involved land, for instance, 
 and the Established Church. 
 
 Alas! I soon found that the shepherd had 
 taken the side of the goats ! While I waited in 
 vain for something to eat I heard a great shout, 
 and going to the door saw the parson, driven by 
 his little girl her fair hair blowing in the wind 
 the pony decked out with blue ribbons and the 
 whip, carried at a knowing angle, adorned with a 
 bow of the same color. I am glad to say the child 
 was left outside, but the burly parson, looking 
 more like a farmer than Herbert's "Priest of the 
 Temple" as probably he was elbowed his way 
 through the crowd and called for a drink; then, 
 amid the shout of the half-drunken crowd, gave 
 "The King and the Church." 
 
 Ruth, who had been pale enough before, now 
 flushed so red that I was afraid she would "start 
 [87]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 something," and nudged her to keep quiet. Then 
 I thought she was going to burst into tears. At 
 that moment a charming young fellow came into 
 the room and said to her: "I beg your pardon, 
 but this is no place for you. My mother has a 
 sitting-room, and I am sure would be glad if you 
 would join her." 
 
 She hesitated a moment, but I said: "I am 
 deeply obliged to you, and if you could get my 
 wife out of this I should be very grateful." 
 
 So she followed him, and when later I joined 
 them I found that the lady of the private room 
 had given her a cup of tea and made her as com- 
 fortable as was possible in such a place. 
 
 When she learned we were Americans she said 
 she was mortified that we should have seen such 
 a sight she too had seen, from her window, the 
 parson's entrance. "I suppose, however," she 
 continued, "such things are seen in every country 
 at election time." 
 
 I said we had "toughs" who made trouble, but 
 that any minister who behaved as the vicar or 
 rector of this parish had done would be "ridden on 
 a rail." I don't think she "got" that. I added 
 that I thought that our laws which forbid the 
 sale of liquor while the polls are open acted as a 
 preventive of trouble. 
 
 "Ah," she said, "that is what Mr. Bowles" 
 the Labor member "is trying to have enacted. 
 [ 88]
 
 SHEEP-DOGS 
 
 But, you see, the vested interests are strong, and 
 then he is so radical !" 
 
 You may be sure we did not tarry long in that 
 place, but took our way back to Bath, where we 
 had planned to spend another night. 
 
 Whether the sheep or the goats won the elec- 
 tion I am unable to tell you. I am rather in- 
 clined to think it was the goats. The church and 
 the public house make a strong alliance ! 
 
 XVII 
 
 SHEEP-DOGS 
 
 EVERY one told us that we made a mistake in 
 beginning our trip through the valley of the Wye 
 at Boss. I think they were right. It is like 
 doing the Hudson from Albany to New York, 
 instead of taking the Palisades first, then West 
 Point, and the Catskills last. However, it was 
 more convenient to work north than to go up to 
 Hereford, then down the valley, and again come 
 back to our starting-place. At any rate, we did 
 begin at Boss ! 
 
 Of course our first excursion was to Tintern 
 
 Abbey. What a gem it must have been in its 
 
 glory ! And I am thankful there has been no 
 
 attempt to restore it. At the same time I think 
 
 [89]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 it a pity that the grounds should be so neglected. 
 It is like neglecting the grave of one we love. So 
 it was with a sad heart that we turned away and 
 drove to a spot, "a few miles above Tintern 
 Abbey," where more than a hundred years ago 
 the immortal poem was written. I read it aloud, 
 and we tried to breathe the atmosphere and feel 
 "Beside these steep and lofty cliffs" what Words- 
 worth felt as he "heard these waters, rolling from 
 their mountain springs with a sweet inland mur- 
 mur." It is indeed a "wild and secluded scene 
 impressing thoughts of more deep seclusion." 
 
 But these poetic thoughts were not destined to 
 last long, for, Ruth remarking that it was getting 
 damp, we started up the engine and drove along 
 the road on the edge of the cliff, looking for a 
 place for tea. 
 
 This we soon found, but as there was no ga- 
 rage, I drew up on the grass opposite the inn, where 
 I thought the car would be out of the way and 
 quite safe. A farmer, coming from the opposite 
 direction, had evidently had a like thought, and 
 had left his cart on the same side of the road. 
 The horse had been taken out and the shafts 
 tilted up at an angle which brought the ends of 
 them directly opposite the radiator of the car. I 
 put on the brake and out we got. I was sur- 
 prised to see the motor move forward a few niches. 
 The long grass had deceived me, for the ground, 
 [90]
 
 SHEEP-DOGS 
 
 instead of being level, as I had supposed, sloped 
 gently, and the brake had not been pulled back 
 far enough to hold it in place. Those few inches 
 did the business. The sharp, iron-shod end of 
 one of the shafts pricked the radiator as neatly 
 as a lancet opens an abscess, and the water gushed 
 out! 
 
 This was indeed an accident. We were miles 
 from a garage and I had not the least idea what 
 to do. An old farmer, standing by, summed up 
 the situation in a word when, turning to Ruth, 
 he said: "It's like 'avin' your horse took with the 
 gripes!" Fortunately, at that moment a kindly 
 disposed cyclist came along, and with, I suppose, 
 the same complacent satisfaction that the owner 
 of a Ford car has in dragging a Pierce Arrow out 
 of a ditch, unpacked his repair kit and plugged 
 the radiator with some preparation for mending 
 tires. 
 
 We were duly grateful, for it enabled us to go 
 on our way, though we leaked like a watering- 
 cart, and I should not like to say how many 
 times the radiator was filled I 
 
 At last we came to a garage where I thought we 
 should find relief. I do not remember what kind 
 of a radiator ours is, but you may be sure the 
 proprietor pointed out that it was the wrong kind, 
 being almost impossible to mend, whereas if we 
 had the kind which he had in stock it would have 
 [91]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 been a simple matter ! I suppose every trade has 
 certain stock phrases, such as the doctor's "Had I 
 been called earlier." However, there was nothing 
 to be done but to leave the car with the man who 
 said he would do what he could. 
 
 We returned to the hotel on foot and not at all 
 in a Wordsworthian frame of mind. The worst 
 of it was that I had no one to blame but myself ! 
 I got what comfort I could out of the reflection 
 that the insurance company would have to pay. 
 But, as the Irishman said, the worst of that is 
 "you've got to lose to gain!" 
 
 The next day while we were waiting for the 
 report from the garage the porter took pity on 
 us and suggested that we might like to see a trial 
 of sheep-dogs, which was to take place at a farm 
 near by. It did not sound exciting, but faute de 
 mieux we decided to go. 
 
 Why does not some one revise the bromidic 
 formula, and instead of saying "How small the 
 world is ! " say " How small we are ! " For indeed 
 our lives are very restricted. How little we know 
 of the interests of others ! The trial of the sheep- 
 dogs brought this home to me. 
 
 Gentlemen and farmers had driven hi from 
 miles around to see this match, which, I was 
 told, is an annual event. I am not sure I can 
 describe the scene, but I will try. 
 
 There was a pasture of about twenty acres in 
 [92]
 
 SHEEP-DOGS 
 
 extent, in which a flock of sheep were feeding. 
 At a given signal a young man evidently a 
 farmer stepped forth with his dog, to which he 
 spoke almost in a whisper. In a twinkling the 
 beautiful and intelligent creature leaped forth, 
 like an arrow from a bow, and began to gather the 
 sheep into a compact mass. This he did without 
 alarming them, so that they moved slowly to- 
 gether, while still cropping the grass. At the far 
 end of the field there was a fold, toward which they 
 slowly but surely moved. No sooner, however, 
 did they discover what was before them than they 
 began to scatter, like young children summoned 
 to bed before the accustomed hour ! It was then 
 the dog showed his training. His master blew on 
 a whistle and he scampered to the right, another 
 whistle and he flashed to the left. Now the sheep 
 were again moving toward the fold, but they had 
 begun to run and were bleating piteously. Evi- 
 dently this was not good "form," for there was a 
 sharp whistle and the dog dropped to the ground, 
 lay motionless for a moment, and then crept 
 slowly forward when the panic had subsided. 
 Now came the critical moment. The fold was 
 built with an opening to the south, but when that 
 should have been passed there was another opening 
 to the left which led into an enclosure large enough 
 to hold the flock. I should have been satisfied 
 when the dog had succeeded in getting the sheep 
 [93]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 into that, but not so the judges. Both dog and 
 sheep were given a moment's rest and then a new 
 signal was given, as much as to say: "Now, mind 
 your eye!" At the far end of the enclosure was 
 a narrow opening through which the sheep must 
 pass in Indian file. Into the pen then the dog 
 leaped and nosed the bell-wether toward the nar- 
 row passage. When that had been done, the others 
 followed meekly and found themselves in another 
 enclosure, out of which they were, in due time, 
 led through the same gateway by which they had 
 first entered, and found themselves once more in 
 the pasture from which they had been gathered. 
 Then the dog came bounding back to his master, 
 and crouching at his feet looked up into his face, 
 as much as to say: "Was it well done?" There 
 was a loud burst of applause, and the farmer 
 stooped down and stroked the dog's head as if 
 he were saying, "Well done, good and faithful 
 servant," and the expression in the creature's 
 eyes showed that he had entered into the "joy of 
 his lord." 
 
 I did not care to see more, but it might have 
 seemed discourteous to withdraw before the 
 match was ended, though later I wished I had. 
 
 The second dog was young and evidently ill 
 
 trained, and as his master was foolish, the result 
 
 was what might have been expected. The dog 
 
 ran wild, the sheep scattered, and the master 
 
 [94]
 
 BRIGANDS AND BOOTBLACKS 
 
 swore. The spectators stood in silence, but it was 
 a painful scene. I think one trouble was that 
 the man had been drinking. He was a "gentle- 
 man," but the young farmer had the good- will of 
 all. The English are democratic in sport, and 
 all were glad when he was given the prize. 
 
 As we passed the master of the winning dog I 
 said how wonderful I thought it all was, and the 
 dog slapped the ground with his tail as if he under- 
 stood. 
 
 Ruth teasingly said to me: "I suppose now 
 you wish you were a farmer!" 
 
 "No," I said, "but I wish I owned that dog," 
 and thought of Rex. 
 
 XVIII 
 BRIGANDS AND BOOTBLACKS 
 
 THE car was not ready for us the next day. 
 Indeed, I found that the garage was not able to 
 do anything with it, and so telegraphed to Lon- 
 don to have a new radiator sent down C. 0. D. 
 It was then I was thankful that I had an Ameri- 
 can, i. e., a standardized car ! 
 
 I thought it would be well to take advantage 
 
 of the delay to make a little journey by rail to a 
 
 town near by that is, near as the crow flies to 
 
 pay a visit to the parents of a lad in the parish 
 
 [95]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 at home. I thought they might like to hear news 
 of him, and I knew it would give him pleasure to 
 learn that I had seen his people, of whom he had 
 often spoken. 
 
 The trains, however, do not follow the track 
 of the crow, and I found that what looked like a 
 short journey necessitated two changes and rather 
 long waits at each junction. I was reminded of a 
 bright saying of Mrs. Freeman Allen. When her 
 husband was the rector of the parish at Amherst 
 some one asked her how long she had been there. 
 She answered: "Seven years." But her husband 
 said: "No, dear, you are mistaken, only five 
 years." To which she replied: "You forget, dear, 
 the time spent at Palmer!" 
 
 I reached my destination at about noon. 
 Captain Burchell, the father of my young friend, 
 is a retired naval officer, and proved to be one of 
 the most silent men I had ever met. After he 
 had examined my credentials he called his wife, 
 and, having invited me to stay to lunch, evidently 
 felt he had done his duty and what more does 
 England expect from any sailor! Nevertheless, 
 no one could look at that strong face without see- 
 ing that he was one of that fine body of men who 
 have kept alive the spirit of the English navy 
 during the long years of "inglorious" peace, so 
 that if war ever does come, it will be ready. 
 
 The wife made up for the taciturnity of the 
 [96]
 
 BRIGANDS AND BOOTBLACKS 
 
 husband perhaps was the cause of it ! She was 
 keenly interested in hearing about her boy, as, no 
 doubt, the father was too, only she said so, and 
 he did not ! It was years since they had seen him, 
 and probably had given up hope of ever seeing 
 him again, and were reconciled. 
 
 I suggested that as it was now an easy thing 
 to make the journey, she might be induced to go 
 out to him. But at this she cried out. How 
 strange it is that the English, who are the masters 
 of the sea, have such a dread of it ! Perhaps it is 
 because they have lost so many at sea, but what- 
 ever may be the reason, it is a fact that the aver- 
 age Englishwoman and the same is almost as 
 true of men seems to think that a trip to New 
 York is as dreadful as the voyage of Columbus. 
 
 But I soon found that there were other reasons 
 besides the "perils of the great deep" that 
 alarmed the gentle lady. 
 
 "I should be afraid of brigands," she said. 
 
 I laughed and said I did not think there was 
 much danger from them. 
 
 "But, indeed, there must be. I frequently see 
 in the Times accounts of armed men entering into 
 the railway carriages and robbing the passengers." 
 
 I had to admit such things did occur, but as 
 
 they happen in the Far West, and her boy now 
 
 lives in New Rochelle, the danger did not seem 
 
 imminent. But as the good lady did not seem to 
 
 [97]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 know whether New Rochelle is a suburb of New 
 York or of Omaha, I gave it up. 
 
 Indeed, I soon learned that there were spiritual 
 enemies to be feared more dreadful than those of 
 flesh and blood. 
 
 She suddenly said: "You have a great many 
 dissenters in the 'States,' have you not?" 
 
 "Oh, no," I said. "We have none." 
 
 "You surprise me. Roy [her son] has written 
 me that there seem to be more of them than of 
 church people, and that their chapels are often 
 more beautiful than the churches. I was also 
 sorry to hear that he had gone with a young lady 
 to one of their places of worship, 'The Fifteenth 
 Avenue Church,' I think he called it." 
 
 "Oh," I said, "I see, you mean non-Episco- 
 palians. Yes, there are millions of those. But, 
 as we have no established church, of course there 
 can be no dissenters." 
 
 I confess I thought this rather neat. But she 
 solemnly answered: 
 
 "They are dissenters from the church of 
 Christ!" 
 
 Fortunately, at that moment the daughter came 
 in from tennis, and I hoped that by giving a more 
 worldly turn to the conversation I might fare 
 better, so said: 
 
 "I have been trying to induce your mother to 
 pay your brother a visit, but she does not seem 
 [98]
 
 BRIGANDS AND BOOTBLACKS 
 
 to like the idea. Perhaps you might enjoy it 
 more." 
 
 "Indeed I should not," she cried. "I hear the 
 hotels are dreadful." 
 
 I thought of London! but meekly replied 
 that I did not think she would find them un- 
 bearable. 
 
 "I am sure I should. A friend of mine Bessie 
 Salter, you know, Mumsie went over to the 
 'States' a year ago, and told me, when she re- 
 turned, that if one wished to have one's boots 
 blacked, one must go down into the cellar and 
 cock one's feet up on two iron pegs, and have 
 them brushed by a grinning 'nigger.'" 
 
 I now gave up "for keeps," and wondered why 
 I had come! However, I consoled myself with 
 the thought that it was part of one's education. 
 I felt that I had got to the heart of the great 
 middle class of England. It is religious, kindly, 
 and self-satisfied to a degree unequalled in the 
 world. 
 
 I was rather depressed that evening as I gave 
 an account of my day to Ruth. But she laughed 
 till the tears came. 
 
 " If only I had been there to see your face ! 
 Why, it is perfect. If one read it in a book one 
 would think the writer was trying to parody 
 Dickens on America. Honestly, did it really 
 happen, or have you embroidered it?" 
 [99]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 "I give you my word, it is the truth, the whole 
 truth, and nothing but the truth!" 
 
 "Well, I hope it will be blest to you! A hun- 
 dred years and more of independence, and the 
 dear old things think of us as an unworthy 'col- 
 ony,' with dissenters and brigands and boot- 
 blacks ! My dear, I hope I may never hear you 
 brag of that unhappy country again ! And now 
 come down and get some dinner. They are going 
 to have cherry tart and custard for a change!" 
 
 XIX 
 
 ,THE PISTON-ROD 
 
 TO-DAY we have enjoyed one of the most 
 beautiful rides in the world. I do not mean 
 grand, like the Corniche, but lovely, because 
 man has beautified what the hand of God had 
 made. The valley of the Wye would have been 
 charming had man never cultivated it, but now 
 it blossoms like the rose. We were tempted 
 to turn off from the main road that we might 
 get a better view of the lovely gardens and 
 charming houses all along the way. I believe it 
 is disputed whether Kent or Shropshire is the 
 more beautiful county; but I cast my vote for 
 Shropshire. I reckon Ruth picked out a score 
 [ 100]
 
 THE PISTON-ROD 
 
 of houses in which she said, had she them, life 
 would be full of joy. 
 
 "Do you wonder," she said, "that Englishmen 
 in exile in India, China, Canada, South Africa, 
 and even America turn back with longing to such 
 homes as these? Surely nothing like it is to be 
 found on earth! But it makes me sad to think 
 how many of these happy girls playing in these 
 gardens must go out to the colonies, and how 
 many of those dear little boys may be killed in 
 some obscure and unnecessary war ! Our people 
 have been pilgrims from the beginning, but what 
 New Englander going to the West, or what Vir- 
 ginian crossing the Alleghanies, or farmers trekking 
 from Iowa to Northwest Canada have left any- 
 thing like this? No wonder 'Home-week' is 
 enough for us ! But the English carry with them 
 the smell of the newly turned earth to the deso- 
 late, sun-baked plains of India, and the scent of 
 the roses to the snows of Hudson's Bay. And 
 yet, with all their deep sentiment for home, they 
 do not die of nostalgia as do the French when 
 they are taken away from the asphalt and the 
 theatre! What a people they are!" 
 
 After this rhapsody there was silence for a 
 little space, and then Ruth came back to earth 
 with the remark: "How fortunate it is that we 
 have never had trouble with our tires ! I feared 
 we might be changing them all the tune." 
 [ 101]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 I sapiently remarked: "Well, you see we have 
 not gone far enough yet. These tires are guar- 
 anteed for five thousand miles." 
 
 She pondered this for a moment, and then said: 
 "I don't see how they can be guaranteed, with all 
 this broken glass lying about the road. Think 
 how the drunken carters throw out the empty 
 beer-bottles!" 
 
 I don't know why it is, but at times Ruth irri- 
 tates me! It is so hard to explain to a woman 
 anything that involves a mathematical problem. 
 I made no reply, but the remark troubled me. I 
 could not frame an explanation which satisfied me 
 or in a way I felt she would understand ! I tried 
 on the law of average, like the insurance actuaries, 
 but, as I say, I could not get it to suit me. It was 
 something like my early attempts to explain to a 
 Bible class why Jacob, rather than Esau, should 
 have inherited the blessing ! 
 
 However, my mind was soon diverted by the 
 charming scenery and the unfamiliar sights on 
 every side. But about an hour later an unfamiliar 
 sound called me from the beauties of England to 
 the motor which I was driving. 
 
 Ruth said: "What can that be?" 
 
 I confessed I did not know. It came at regular 
 
 intervals. When the car ran fast it was quick, 
 
 when I slowed down it lessened in frequency but 
 
 not in volume. I stopped and looked under the 
 
 I 102]
 
 THE PISTON-ROD 
 
 hood, but could find nothing amiss. So we con- 
 tinued on our way. It seemed to grow worse, 
 and soon the whole car was shaken by the jar. 
 Then I remembered I had never tested the valves 
 to see if they leaked, so I again lifted the hood 
 and dropped a few drops of oil on each of the 
 valves in turn and started the engine up. Yes, 
 that was the trouble, Nos. 2 and 4 were not quite 
 tight. I was much pleased with myself, and 
 when I had tightened them took my place at the 
 wheel, congratulating myself on being such a 
 good mechanic. Indeed, I did not think Ruth 
 overstated the case when she said: "I think you 
 are wonderful." But, alas! the noise and the 
 jar continued, and I began to fear that some seri- 
 ous injury had been sustained. 
 
 When I opened the hood once more I showed 
 Ruth how to start the engine so that I could test 
 the engine better than when it was at rest. I 
 put my head down so near the cylinder that I 
 nearly burned my ear, and found that there was 
 no noise at all I I then told her to let in the 
 clutch and let the car run on the road slowly. 
 "I said 'slowly'!" I cried, as the motor nearly 
 ran over me. So Ruth tried again. I hopped 
 along by the side of the car as best I could, hear- 
 ing the distressing noise more plainly than ever, 
 coming, I was now convinced, from the interior 
 of the cylinder. 
 
 [103]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 "We have broken a piston-rod," I said in a 
 calm but desperate tone, " and the car will have 
 to be laid up for an indefinite time to replace 
 it." 
 
 "But how could we break a piston-rod when 
 we have met with no accident that could break 
 anything?" exclaimed Ruth. 
 
 Like a doctor who has diagnosed a case to his 
 own satisfaction, I could afford to be patient with 
 a layman, so I replied: "Well, you see there is 
 sometimes a flaw in the metal, and the mere ex- 
 pansion and contraction by heat and cold may 
 cause the metal to break without any concussion 
 at all." 
 
 It was a tiny village in which we had stopped, 
 but all the inhabitants had assembled, and it was 
 surprising to see how many of them there were ! 
 
 "What's the trouble?" said one. 
 
 "A broken piston-rod," I replied tersely. In- 
 deed, annoying as it was, I felt a certain pride in 
 the gravity of the situation! I was like a man 
 seized with a sudden pain in the night, whose 
 trouble the doctor declares to be "appendicitis"; 
 he is alarmed, but still has the satisfaction of feel- 
 ing that the family will now know that he did not 
 call them from their beds for a vulgar stomach- 
 ache! 
 
 I was about to inquire if there was any one in 
 the village who had a horse which could tow us 
 [104 ]
 
 THE PISTON-ROD 
 
 to the nearest garage, when Ruth remarked: 
 "There is one funny thing about it 
 
 This did irritate me, and I sarcastically re- 
 marked: "I am glad your sense of humor is so 
 keen. I suppose I am dull, but a broken piston- 
 rod does not strike me as 'humorous.'" 
 
 Her eyes filled with tears, as they always do 
 when my ill temper takes the form of sarcasm, 
 and I felt like the brute I am. So I hurriedly 
 added: " It's all right, honey, what were you going 
 to sayp" 
 
 "I was only going to say," said she, with a 
 gulp, and tactfully changing the form of her re- 
 mark, "that it seems strange that we should 
 hear no sound when we are standing still and 
 the engine running if the trouble is a piston-rod." 
 
 I pondered this for a moment and then said: 
 "Well, let's see if that is so." I started the en- 
 gine and it ran as sweetly as one could wish, but 
 as soon as the car began to move bump, bump, 
 bump was heard louder than ever. 
 
 At that moment an urchin, who had been doing 
 some investigating on his own hook, called out: 
 "Your tire's flat!" 
 
 The announcement was as reassuring and as 
 humiliating as to have the doctor say, when you 
 were convinced you had appendicitis, "What the 
 deuce have you been eating?" This tiny lay- 
 man had diagnosed correctly a case which the 
 [ 105 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 learned of the faculty had failed to understand ! 
 He promptly received his fee and scampered off 
 with his companions to spend it before Ruth and 
 I had reached the back of the car and were gaz- 
 ing at a long nail protruding from the tire of one 
 of the rear wheels. 
 
 I had never changed a rim before, but I re- 
 membered the agent had told me that it took 
 three minutes. It did and twenty-seven more 
 but what was that compared with a week's 
 waiting to have a broken piston-rod replaced ? 
 
 When we were again under way, I said: "We 
 were talking this morning about the guarantee 
 on tires, and I ought to have explained that the 
 guarantee, of course, refers only to the bursting 
 of a tire and not to an accident like this." Why 
 is it we men cannot make up our minds to tell 
 the truth to the wives of our bosoms ? I have not 
 in mind now our wickedness but our folly. Ruth 
 knew as well as I did that this great truth had 
 not dawned on my clouded brain until the rusty 
 nail had punctured the tire and my ignorance at 
 the same time! Of course she expressed her 
 gratification at this bit of valuable information. 
 What would women do with their spare time if 
 they did not have to waste so much of it in "saving 
 the faces" of their lords! 
 
 [ 106]
 
 PALSTAFF 
 
 XX 
 
 FALSTAFF 
 
 WE were destined to have another experience 
 with the car that day before we reached our 
 destination. As we drew near Shrewsbury there 
 was a sharp shower, which, though it did not last 
 many minutes, was enough to make the roads 
 rather greasy. As we had, however, such a short 
 distance to go, it did not seem worth while to put 
 on the chains. As we drove along the main street 
 I was very careful, fearing we might skid. There 
 is a tramway running through the street, which 
 did not make things easier, for the rails were wet 
 and shining in the rain. The street is lined with 
 trees, and on one side is a high brick wall. My 
 subconscious mind was noting all these things and 
 perhaps allowing me to drive a little faster than 
 I had intended, when suddenly the car, as if it 
 were possessed of a devil, shot from the track to 
 the sidewalk, passing between two trees, grazing 
 the wall, and was back again on the rails before 
 one could say "Jack Robinson," or even the Eng- 
 lish equivalent, "Knife"! It was not the rear 
 wheels which had slipped but the front ones ! No 
 one had ever told me that could happen, nor 
 should I have known how to guard against it if 
 they had. Was it not fortunate that it was the 
 [ 107]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 tea hour that the car chose for this little side- trip ? 
 All the tradespeople were in the back rooms be- 
 hind their shops, and the street was almost de- 
 serted. I trembled to think what might have 
 happened had children been on their way to or 
 from school, or feeble folk had failed to jump like 
 grasshoppers! I never was more thankful than 
 when I turned the motor into the garage of the 
 "Raven." 
 
 Our first business in Shrewsbury was, of course, 
 to visit the battle-field. I reminded Ruth as we 
 drove out of the town the following morning of 
 a saying of yours: that the best investment any 
 nation or town could make was to breed a genius ! 
 "Sir Walter Scott," you said, "had brought more 
 money to Scotland than all the ship-building on 
 the Clyde, and that the money spent each year 
 in Marseilles, by men and women who came from 
 all over the world to look at the ChMeau d'lf, 
 and speculate as to which side of it a man, who 
 had never lived, had escaped could not be counted 
 for multitude!" It is the same here. What 
 a triumph of the imagination it is that after 
 four hundred years pilgrims should still be wend- 
 ing their way to the field of Shrewsbury, as 
 many were doing that morning ! Not because it 
 was historical as the French say "they mock 
 themselves well of that." It is Shakespeare who 
 is the Pied Piper that led us all to the spot where 
 [ 108 ]
 
 FALSTAFF 
 
 Harry Momnouth and Hotspur fought indeed, 
 but where Falstaff bore off the honors of the day ! 
 What a futile fight it was ! Would not England 
 have been better off if Percy had won ? Did not 
 the triumph of Henry IV sow the dragon's teeth 
 that were harvested in the Wars of the Roses? 
 Did it not lead to the desolation of France and the 
 crime of Jeanne d' Arc's death? It is the genius 
 of Shakespeare alone which lends glamour to this 
 stupidity. Look at the heroes! Has any figure 
 in history, except the miserable Stuarts, called 
 forth such sympathy as the reckless Hotspur? 
 How much Percy resembles our national hero! 
 It is the feminine in us that admires Henry V 
 the reformed rake! It would seem as if the 
 prudent, calculating world reacts in shame from 
 Henry IV, as if it saw in him a picture of itself, 
 and admires the reckless Percy just because it 
 dare not follow him! Falstaff is the real hero. 
 The fool at the feast of folly ! Gross and witty, 
 brave enough but cynical what genius to draw 
 respectable people to such companionship and 
 compel them to enjoy it though they are ashamed 
 to be seen with him ! I suppose the real explana- 
 tion of this moral paradox is that human nature 
 esteems a sinner more than it does a hypocrite. 
 The Lord Chancellor was a more respectable man 
 than Falstaff, but he was a humbug, and we are 
 glad the fat knight flouted him. 
 [ 109]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 While I was thus moralizing and, no doubt, 
 boring Ruth, we had reached the battle-field, and 
 she exclaimed: "Why, there is Mr. Rhodes!" 
 the historian, whom she had known in Boston 
 and ran to meet him. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Rhodes," she cried, "I am sure you 
 have made some new historical discovery!" 
 
 "I have, indeed," he gravely replied, but with 
 a twinkle in his eye. 
 
 "Tell me at once what it is," she asked eagerly. 
 
 "I have discovered a new lie of Falstaff's he 
 'fought a long hour by Shrewsbury clock,' and 
 the clock is not visible from the battle-field !" 
 
 Shrewsbury was one of the ancient and is still 
 one of the modern gates into Wales, and had we 
 been tied to a route we should have entered the 
 kindgom of Glendower from there, but we re- 
 ceived two letters which changed our plans, and 
 led us to leave the motor, and depart in different 
 directions by train. Of which you will hear in 
 due time. 
 
 [110]
 
 THE BLACK COUNTRY 
 
 XXI 
 
 THE BLACK COUNTRY 
 
 MY letter was from Archdeacon Williams. I 
 had never met him but had read his books and 
 been much influenced by them, as I know you 
 have been. To tell the truth, I hesitated about 
 accepting his invitation to spend the "week-end," 
 for I feared I might be disappointed! Authors 
 are like miners: they put the precious metal into 
 their books, but when one gets to the mine there 
 is apt to be a lot of "slag" lying about ! But it 
 was not so in this case. The books are the man 
 he lives as he talks. 
 
 England is the land of contrasts. Shropshire 
 seems to belong to another planet, when one gets 
 into the dark and chilly atmosphere of the black 
 country. It was most depressing. Instead of the 
 charming vicarage I had pictured, I found a 
 plain brick house on the street of the town, and 
 instead of a blooming garden, a few sickly shrubs, 
 blackened, like everything else, by the smoke 
 from the mills. 
 
 But within all was sweetness and light. The 
 
 house was overflowing with delightful children, 
 
 and every one seemed to be at work. Or, perhaps 
 
 I should say, every one seemed to have a purpose, 
 
 [HI]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 for as I arrived at tea-time, work had been sus- 
 pended. 
 
 There was but one drawback: the archdeacon 
 does not smoke, and does not seem to have heard 
 that any one else does! I thought that three 
 days would be more than I could bear. But, 
 indeed, mind and body were kept so busy that I 
 hardly missed my pipe at all ! Can I say more ? 
 
 The archdeacon and I sat up until all hours of 
 the night, talking of the things which are most 
 worth while. 
 
 He is an extraordinary man not only a good 
 classical scholar but also a notable mathema- 
 tician. He is quite at home in all the scientific 
 theories which are the vogue to-day, and insisted 
 that theology can have no interest for the modern 
 mind until theologians abandon the mediaeval, 
 a priori method for the inductive, and use words 
 as the symbols of truths which can be verified. 
 Then it will be found that the "faith" for which 
 the saints contended was the reality without 
 which man cannot live. He said many things of 
 which I will tell you when we meet; but one I 
 send you now, for you might have said it your- 
 self ! "Men are forever talking about 'faith' as 
 if the important thing were the quantity of it, 
 whereas the thing that matters is its quality. 
 The faith which overcame the world is not the 
 mass of opinion which has accumulated through 
 [112]
 
 THE BLACK COUNTRY 
 
 the ages, but the deep conviction that God is 
 Spirit, and that the character of that Spirit has 
 been revealed in the person of Jesus." 
 
 The way the man works would, I think, aston- 
 ish you. This is what we did on Saturday: 
 breakfast at 8, then prayers in the parish church 
 at 9. He agrees with Bishop Creighton that it is 
 better to have many of the parish come together 
 for prayers each day than to have family prayers, 
 with which, I am sure, you will no more agree 
 than I do ! At 9.30 he shut himself in his study 
 and did not appear again until 1 o'clock. Then 
 we had dinner, all the family taking part in the 
 talk, which was good, and I listened. The last 
 you will not believe, but it is true ! 
 
 Mrs. Williams is as remarkable in her way as 
 he, and is a real intellectual companion. When 
 I spoke to him of her, he said: "Think of the men 
 who are asphyxiated by dull wives !" I did ! 
 
 The children adore their father, though Rose 
 a girl of about twelve told me they could have 
 a pony if their father did not give so much to 
 the poor. When I suggested that this was a 
 good way to use money, she agreed, but added: 
 "It seems a pity there is not enough for both." 
 In which opinion, no doubt, many will agree. 
 
 At 2.30 a large van drove up to the door, and 
 into it we all piled, except the very little ones, to 
 go to the Sunday-school treat. We stopped at 
 [ H3]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 many a corner to pick up the teachers all of 
 whom were workers in the mills and drove to a 
 grove some miles away, where the feast was 
 spread. 
 
 I sat next a man of about fifty years of age, 
 who, when he learned that I was an American, 
 "let himself go." He had friends who had mi- 
 grated to the "States," and admitted that the 
 wages were much larger than in England, but 
 added that, as the expense of living was so much 
 greater, there was not much in it. I did not re- 
 mind him that the greater expense meant also 
 better living conditions, for I wanted to hear 
 him talk. He complained that our people worked 
 longer hours than they did, and were so tired at 
 the end of the day that they could not enjoy the 
 rest when it came. He wanted to know if the 
 tariff helped our trade. I laughed and told him 
 there was great difference of opinion on that 
 subject, and that I did not pretend to be an 
 authority, but was inclined to think that the 
 willingness of the workers to use new machinery 
 had more to do with our prosperity than any- 
 thing the government did. 
 
 "Ay," said he, "that is what the masters tell 
 us, but we do not heed them. We know that this 
 new machinery can be speeded up till a man's 
 heart is broke." 
 
 It was not the man's opinion that interested 
 [114]
 
 THE BLACK COUNTRY 
 
 me so much as his willingness to talk; for I had 
 heard frequent complaints that the working men 
 would talk freely only with their mates. But I 
 got a new light on that, for, when we had risen 
 and sung "God Save the King," my neighbor 
 turned to me and said: "You will excuse me if I 
 have talked too free, but this is the first time in 
 my life that I ever talked with a gentleman.'* 
 
 I could have wept. "But," I said, "you must 
 often have talked to the vicar?" 
 
 "Ay," he replied, "but he is a man." And 
 with this cryptic saying I had to be content ! 
 
 One other thing he told me that I am sure will 
 interest you. He said that in the dark days of 
 the cotton famine, during our Civil War, he could 
 remember as a little boy seeing his father go, with 
 many others, to receive the food distributed to 
 the poor. "That was the only time any of my 
 name received anything from the rates, and it 
 was bitter hard for father. There were men who 
 came up from Liverpool and told us that if the 
 working men of Lancashire would send a deputa- 
 tion to Parliament, the war would be stopped, 
 and we could get cotton to open the mills. But 
 my father was one of those who said that it was 
 the cause of free labor you were fighting for, and 
 that if the men would hold on a bit, God would 
 come to our help. He learned that, I now know, 
 from John Bright. And so the men held out. 
 [ H5]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 But it was hard." Isn't that fine ? And doesn't 
 it make Lord John Russell and Gladstone look 
 cheap ? 
 
 By some ill chance Rose and I got separated 
 from the rest of the party, and the van drove off 
 without us. When Rose learned this, she thought 
 it a huge joke, and said we should have to walk. 
 I said: "Not on your life !" This familiar saying 
 filled her with delight, and she cried: "Oh, I say, 
 that is a jolly saying; I must tell that to Dick, 
 and he can take it back to school !" 
 
 "That is all very well," said I, "but what is 
 going to take us back to home ? " 
 
 She suggested a "fly." I solemnly remarked 
 that I did not believe there was a fly big enough 
 to carry us both. 
 
 She looked at me for a moment in astonish- 
 ment and then cried: "Why, I believe you are 
 thinking of an insect!" 
 
 I asked what else one could think of. She 
 pondered this a moment and then said she be- 
 lieved I was making game of her. Nothing, I 
 assured her, was farther from my thoughts. 
 
 "W T ell," she said, "if you are sure you don't 
 know, I will tell you; a fly is something that a 
 horse pulls." 
 
 I asked if it was a cart. But apparently she 
 had given me up as hopeless, and taking me by 
 the hand, led me to a livery-stable, where the 
 [ 116 ]
 
 THE BLACK COUNTRY 
 
 proprietor produced a fly and announced that the 
 price would be ten shillings, and asked if he 
 should "put it down" to the vicar. Rose looked 
 much alarmed at this, and was proportionately 
 relieved when I paid the amount. 
 
 There was silence for a little space after we 
 started, and then Rose said, as if to herself: 
 "Daddy would have walked." 
 
 "Yes," I replied, "but you must remember he 
 is over six feet tall, and his stride is about three- 
 foot-three, whereas I step only about two-foot- 
 six; so you can calculate how much longer it 
 would take me to walk seven miles than it would 
 him." 
 
 "Don't you hate arithmetic?" she exclaimed. 
 
 I admitted that I was not fond of it. 
 
 "I simply loathe it," she declared. "Such a 
 silly thing, I call it! Why should one spend 
 hours in trying to find out how many yards of 
 carpet it takes to cover the schoolroom floor, when 
 all one has to do is to run through Tod Lane and 
 ask Mr. Small, who keeps the shop, and he can 
 tell in a moment, without even looking at a book." 
 
 "But suppose Mr. Small thought it to his ad- 
 vantage to sell you more carpet than you needed ? " 
 
 "Why, he wouldn't do such a thing," she in- 
 dignantly replied; "he is a churchwarden." 
 
 There was another short silence and then she 
 began again: "Ten shillings is a lot of money." 
 [117]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 I agreed. 
 
 "However," she continued, "I suppose it 
 doesn't signify. Americans are very rich, are 
 they not?" 
 
 I said some were. 
 
 "But you must be to hand out ten shillings just 
 like that." 
 
 "Oh, I don't know. My share is only five shil- 
 lings. You will pay half, will you not?" 
 
 "Not living!" she hastily exclaimed. "There, 
 I have that wrong. Please say it again." When 
 I had repeated the familiar slang, she echoed it. 
 Evidently it gave her great satisfaction, for I 
 heard her muttering it to herself over and over 
 again. Finally she said: "That is a jolly saying." 
 Then, with apparent irrelevance but that no 
 doubt was due to my slowness in following her 
 mental processes " I am glad you came." 
 
 I laughed and said I was glad too. 
 
 "Not," continued this artless young person, 
 "that we were glad when we first heard you were 
 coming I mean except daddy. Mother said: 
 'Dear me! I fear he will expect a bathroom to 
 himself!' And Dick said: 'Is he as dirty as all 
 that?' Even daddy laughed at that. And Dick 
 was so much pleased with himself that he got a 
 bit above himself, and went on to say that all 
 Americans were 'bounders.' So daddy stopped 
 his 'sweet,' and he did look silly! But it seems 
 [118]
 
 AN "AVERAGE" SUNDAY 
 
 to me you are just like other people, only rather 
 'droll.'" 
 
 As we drew near the house she evidently began 
 to think that, after all, Dick might be an au- 
 thority on "bounders," for she remarked, with 
 studied carelessness: "I shouldn't think it neces- 
 sary to repeat at home everything we have been 
 talking about." 
 
 I gravely assured her that I made it a rule 
 never to repeat the conversation I had had with 
 the young lady I took buggy-riding. 
 
 "Buggy-riding?" she cried; "what is that?" 
 "Why, what you call a fly, we call a buggy." 
 Her reaction was rather deliberate, but finally 
 she exclaimed: "Oh, I see. 'Bug' and 'fly.' 
 That's awfully good. I must tell Dick that !" 
 
 XXII 
 
 AN "AVERAGE" SUNDAY 
 
 SUNDAY was "some" day! Early service at 8 
 o'clock, a hurried breakfast at 8.45, and then we 
 started for the mission chapel, where the arch- 
 deacon was to preach. I was curious to see how 
 this scholar would adapt himself to the sort of 
 congregation I knew he would meet there. Noth- 
 ing could have been better. He did not "con- 
 [119]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 descend to men of low estate," but gave them as 
 thoughtful a message as he would have delivered 
 at the university, yet clothed in such simple lan- 
 guage as the most unlearned could understand. 
 
 "Truly," I said to myself, "here is a scribe who 
 bringeth out of his treasure things new as well as 
 old." 
 
 The archdeacon has, of course, besides his duty 
 as vicar, many calls for work outside the parish. 
 I was told that this day he was to preach at a 
 church some twelve miles distant, and, therefore, 
 there would be no time for dinner! However, 
 Mrs. Williams made us a package of sandwiches, 
 which we munched as we drove to the church 
 where he was to preach the annual sermon on 
 education. 
 
 The church was a barn of a place, and the 
 atmosphere decidedly "evangelical." There were 
 the old square pews which one sees in pictures of 
 the eighteenth century; and when we knelt down 
 my legs were covered by the voluminous folds of 
 a bright-blue silk dress, worn by a farmer's wife, 
 so that I was not quite sure of my identity, till a 
 pair of stout white stockings, encasing most solid 
 ankles, showed me that my own legs had not yet 
 emerged ! 
 
 The sermon was a plea for parochial schools, 
 which would have left me cold had it not been 
 for the interpretation of the Parable of the Sower, 
 [ 120]
 
 AN "AVERAGE" SUNDAY 
 
 from which the text was taken. "The soil," said 
 the preacher, "is human nature. At the first 
 glance it might seem as if man was no more re- 
 sponsible for his character than is a field for the 
 different conditions of its soil. But there would 
 have been no 'gospel,' that is, 'good news,' in 
 that. No, what it means, every farmer will un- 
 derstand. There is no soil that is hopeless, and 
 none that does not need to be cultivated. Our 
 schools are to make poor soil good, and good soil 
 better." And so on. 
 
 On the way home the subject of education could 
 not be ignored. The archdeacon was none too 
 pleased to learn that I did not think well of pa- 
 rochial schools, and insisted that "godless" schools 
 were worse than none. He would not agree that 
 dogmatic teaching might be dispensed with and 
 yet character be built up. When I pointed out 
 that Jews and Catholics made up a large part of 
 our urban population, and, not unnaturally, the one 
 objected to Christian and the other to Protestant 
 teaching, he could only see how unfortunate it was 
 that we had no Established Church ! Once more I 
 was impressed by the fact that no man is liberal 
 all through ! Though he had been in the " States," 
 his journey had led him only to the South and 
 that, too, in the days of Reconstruction. He had 
 never seen New York or Ohio or New England, 
 so that I could not feel that he was to be blamed 
 [ 121]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 for thinking poorly of our school system. But 
 he made one remark worth remembering, to see 
 if he is a "seer" as well as a prophet, which latter 
 he assuredly is. 
 
 "You are doing the thing on the 'cheap.' You 
 do not pay your teachers enough to make it worth 
 while for men to make teaching a profession, and, 
 as a result, not only the girls but the boys as 
 well are for years under the influence of women. 
 This is bad and cannot fail to affect the national 
 character as you will find if a great crisis were 
 to come. It may, as I have heard it said, tend 
 to 'refinement' of speech and manners, but the 
 price is too high. It will make them effeminate, 
 that is, sentimental, and sometimes hysterical. 
 It is the manly virtues of endurance and disre- 
 gard of trifles, which men alone can inculcate, 
 which have made England what she is. Should 
 a great war come and I fear that cannot be long 
 delayed you will find your boys cannot bear the 
 strain." 
 
 I hope that, as Nehemiah liked to say, " It may 
 be counted to me for righteousness" that I re- 
 frained from mentioning 1776, or 1812, or even 
 the Civil War the "Bloody Angle," and Pickett's 
 charge at Gettysburg for that might have raised 
 the Alabama ! 
 
 In the evening I preached in the parish church 
 "the noblest parish church in England," I was 
 [ 122]
 
 AN "AVERAGE" SUNDAY 
 
 told Ruskin called it. Well, the sermon was not 
 worthy of the church. I don't know what was 
 the matter. You know how such things go! 
 One trouble was that, all the time I was speaking, 
 I wished to say something else! Ruth haunted 
 me! I could hear her whispering: "Better be 
 dull and decent than 'start something'!" So I 
 was dull ! 
 
 At nine o'clock we sat down to a supper of cold 
 beef and bread and cheese, and mighty good they 
 tasted. Now was not that a day? I asked the 
 archdeacon if it had been an exceptional day. 
 "Oh, no," he said, "I should say an average day. 
 I often go to the town hall after evening service 
 and speak to the men who do not care to come to 
 church. 'Securalists,' they call themselves, and 
 as they are almost sure to heckle one, it is gen- 
 erally interesting, and sometimes exhausting." 
 
 There is no doubt that the English clergy work 
 harder than we do that is, those who pretend 
 to work. While Americans find the climate try- 
 ing, I am inclined to think one can accomplish 
 more in a climate like this than in ours, which 
 alternately exhilarates and depresses one. But 
 I suspect there is a deeper reason which we do 
 not like to admit, which is that they are better 
 educated than we are ! With us there is too much 
 "cramming" for the occasion, whereas they have 
 a treasury from which they can draw as they have 
 [ 123]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 need. It is possible also that there is an advan- 
 tage in an established church which has not been 
 recognized. While the "dumb dogs" take ad- 
 vantage of the "vested interest" to do as little as 
 possible, the best men work in an atmosphere of 
 leisure almost unknown to us. Unconsciously we 
 are influenced by the competition which is the 
 "life of trade." I do not mean that we do this 
 in any unworthy manner, but with the subcon- 
 scious feeling that we are expected to "make 
 good," and this leads to "pressing," which is as 
 fatal to the best work as it is to the best golf! 
 Men like Williams seem to me to work without 
 haste and without rest. 
 
 It was no "Blue Monday" to which I awoke. 
 All was healthy activity, as if Sunday had been 
 indeed a day of rest. The children were shooed 
 into the schoolroom, for though it was the holi- 
 days, there were tasks which must be done before 
 the next term. Mrs. Williams had a meeting of 
 women, for some good work, and the archdeacon 
 had gone to his study as soon as breakfast was 
 finished to talk over and arrange with his curates 
 the work of the new week. 
 
 So I drove to the station in a "fly," and bought 
 a third-class ticket. But as I was about to take 
 my place, the guard appeared and, touching his 
 cap, asked if I was from the vicarage. When I 
 said, "Yes," he said, "This way, please," and 
 [ 124 ]
 
 DOWAGER AND COWBOY 
 
 showed me into a first-class carriage, the door of 
 which he promptly locked, when he had again 
 touched his cap and said: "Thank you, sir." 
 
 " But," you will say, " this was ' graft ' ! " How 
 crude you are! Do you not know that "graft" 
 is confined to Tammany Hall? This was proper 
 respect to persons of importance ! 
 
 "Convey, the wise it call. Steal! foh; a fico 
 for the phrase." 
 
 JOHN left me on Friday for Saltbridge, to visit 
 Archdeacon Williams, whom, as you know, he is 
 always quoting. They have never met and I do 
 hope they will not be disappointed in one an- 
 other, and that John will behave ! I feel like a 
 mother whose child has gone to visit strangers. 
 However, I comfort myself with the thought that 
 children often behave better when they are left 
 alone I suppose because they then have a keener 
 sense of responsibility ! 
 
 I expect him back this afternoon and am hasten- 
 ing to write you before his return, for I would 
 not have him see this letter for worlds. He would 
 never cease teasing me about my "beloved 
 English." 
 
 [ 125]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 He had scarcely gone before a telegram came 
 from Gertrude Shelburne, asking me to come to 
 them for the week-end. I was glad to get it, 
 first, because I am devoted to her, and second, 
 because I wanted to see their place, which I had 
 been told was beautiful I suppose I ought to 
 add that I had already begun to be a trifle triste 
 without John. 
 
 On the map it did not look far from Shrews- 
 bury to Deepford, but the porter told me it would 
 save tune if I went up to "town" and caught the 
 Brighton express, which would stop at Deepford 
 if I told the guard I was for Admiral Shel- 
 burne's. This did not seem probable, but it 
 proved to be true. 
 
 I arrived for tea, which was being served on the 
 lawn, quite as in an English novel. I felt some- 
 what like the poor governess, in such stories, who 
 is destined ultimately to marry the heir of the 
 adjoining estate, but has not yet discovered her 
 fate ! For I was feeling a little shy not because 
 the people were so fine, but because they were so 
 intimate. If one does not know the people talked 
 of in an English household, it looks as if one did 
 not know anybody ! However, that did not last 
 long, for Gertrude, who had been motoring with 
 a young man when I arrived, soon appeared and 
 made me feel at home. 
 
 If I were a human pig I should arrange to have, 
 [ 126]
 
 DOWAGER AND COWBOY 
 
 each day, an American breakfast, a French dinner, 
 and an English tea! What would I do for 
 luncheon? Do as I did to-day. Go without 
 one in order to enjoy the tea ! 
 
 Admiral Sir George Shelburne, as I believe he 
 is formally called, is as delightful as ever. He 
 kissed me, not quite with the paternal air which 
 should go with his years, but rather like one who 
 has had a sweetheart in every port ! He is under 
 the impression that he rules the house as he once 
 ruled a man-of-war. As a matter of fact, Ger- 
 trude manages him and every one else ! 
 
 After tea the admiral asked me if I would like 
 to see the gardens. As this was the "first tune 
 of asking" I was able to say with a clear con- 
 science that I should be delighted. How I wish 
 you might see these gardens ! There is a "lady's 
 walk" that you would rejoice to make a water- 
 color of. It is enclosed by brick walls of a deep 
 red, and the borders are a riot of color. Take 
 down your Latin dictionary and read anywhere 
 in it, and you will get a notion of the names the 
 admiral called off to me! Whether they were 
 right or wrong I have no means of knowing, but 
 it sounded very learned. I asked the admiral if 
 his taste had laid out the lady's walk, and he 
 modestly admitted that it had; and the best of 
 it is he believes it. Gertrude is a wonder I 
 
 The "guests" were a young man who is secre- 
 l 127]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 tary to some one in the government, and is 
 never separated from a despatch-box, supposed 
 to contain international secrets upon which the 
 peace of the world depends. I do not think I 
 ever met any one who took himself quite so seri- 
 ously. He is supposed to be devoted to Gertrude, 
 and is probably as much interested in her as he 
 can be in any one besides himself. So I fear she 
 is, at best, but a bad second ! There is, however, 
 trouble brewing for that young man, as I learned 
 as soon as I saw a "photo" (by the way, one never 
 says "photograph" in polite society, but "photo," 
 and "pram," and "bike." It is a liberty the 
 owners take with their language. This sounds like 
 John, the reason being that for the moment I feel 
 like John. But you will be saying: "What about 
 the photograph ? ") How curious you are ! Well, 
 if you must know, it is of a young naval officer the 
 Shelburnes met at "Gib," two years ago. He has 
 a straight nose and a firm chin a la Gibson, and 
 blue eyes, and his name is Guy. Doesn't this tell 
 you all you need to know? The admiral is sup- 
 posed to favor the young man with the despatch- 
 box possibly because he knows too much about 
 sweethearts in every port. How do you guess it 
 will end? See what powers of condensation I 
 have! It took Gertrude two hours to tell me 
 what I have written in a few moments ! 
 There are two perfectly uninteresting men be- 
 I 128]
 
 DOWAGER AND COWBOY 
 
 sides the one already spoken of, and three non- 
 descript women who devoted themselves to me. 
 Only one of them calls for any attention. This is 
 Lady Agatha Bumstead. She is handsome and 
 really means to be nice, but unfortunately she 
 has been in the "States," and does not want to 
 hear, but only to tell about them. 
 
 After dinner, while the men were sitting over 
 their wine, she suddenly said to me: "Have you 
 any honest judges in America now?" 
 
 I said I hoped so. 
 
 She replied: "I am glad to hear it. When I 
 was in New York, with my dear husband (she is 
 a dowager), I remember they were trying a judge 
 for taking a bribe, and I was told it was quite 
 common." 
 
 I said I supposed that was in the time of the 
 Tweed regime. 
 
 "Yes," she replied, "that was the name of the 
 governor" (sic). 
 
 I said I thought things had improved since 
 then, and that, after all, he was but one of the 
 hundreds of American judges, and that it was 
 hardly fair to condemn the whole bench because 
 of the iniquity of one Tammany judge. 
 
 "But," she said, "I thought all the judges in 
 America were appointed by Tammany. I re- 
 member my husband said, when he was trying to 
 recover some of the money he had put into that 
 [ 129 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 awful Erie, that all the judges were appointed by 
 Tammany." 
 
 Hoping to get a more favorable view of America 
 if I moved out of New York, I asked if she had 
 travelled much in the "States." 
 
 "Far more than I wished," she dryly remarked. 
 
 I expressed my sympathy. 
 
 "You see," she continued, "it is hard for people 
 of refinement to put up with the lack of manners 
 in America. Of course, you will not misunder- 
 stand me, my dear; I do not mean people like 
 yourself; indeed, as I was saying to Sir George 
 at dinner, I should hardly know you were an 
 American. I had in mind the lower classes." 
 
 I feebly remarked that I thought they meant 
 to be "kind." 
 
 "Kind, my dear," she exclaimed in a shocked 
 tone. "What business have they to be 'kind'? 
 It is for us to be kind, for them to be respectful. 
 I cannot say I met any such. I had an experi- 
 ence once which left an indelible impression on 
 my mind. You," she continued, turning to one 
 of the other women, who were drinking in this 
 unprejudiced view of our country, "can have no 
 conception of what that country really is. While 
 we were in New York, trying to save something 
 out of the wreck of the Erie, my husband met a 
 man from the West who told him that there was 
 a fortune to be made in silver-mines, and he 
 [130]
 
 DOWAGER AND COWBOY 
 
 started with him to look into it. I may say here 
 that he lost every penny he put into this venture. 
 The mines were 'pickled' no, I think the word 
 they used was 'salted.' 
 
 "However, that does not signify now what I 
 was going to tell you was, that he was detained 
 longer than he had expected, and wrote me to 
 join him in a place called Cheyenne. So I started; 
 but what I endured in those sleeping-cars I never 
 told even my husband. It wasn't proper! The 
 passengers were of the most ordinary type, mostly 
 bagmen, I should say. And the women ! Vulgar 
 and overdressed. I must say, however, I was 
 rather pleased with the black man who waited 
 on the passengers. He was rather grotesque, but 
 was the only one I saw who seemed to have at 
 all the bearing of a servant, and even he had a 
 habit of smiling when spoken to which looked 
 like impudence, till one learned that the poor 
 creature had never been properly trained. Well, 
 at length we reached Cheyenne. I had been told 
 that it was the capital of the State, or whatever 
 the district was called, and you may imagine my 
 disgust when I found that it was a mere jumble 
 of miserable wooden houses. 
 
 "My husband was not there to meet me he 
 
 had gone into the mountains to inspect a mine, 
 
 and there had been a 'wash-out' or a 'hot-box.' 
 
 I am sure I do not know the difference; I only 
 
 [131]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 know it was either the one or the other which 
 continually caused delays. So there I was, with 
 no one to meet me, and it was night. I looked 
 round for a porter, and of course there was none. 
 I saw a rough-looking man leaning against the 
 station-house, and said to him: 'My man, carry 
 my portmanteau to the hotel, please.'" 
 
 The pause which followed was so long that I 
 thought the story ended, or that the narrator had 
 fallen asleep. But I was mistaken her emo- 
 tion choked her. Finally one of the others said: 
 
 "And what happened then?" 
 
 In a sepulchral tone she answered: "He spat! 
 Then, without a word, he picked up the bag and 
 led the way to the hotel. I handed him a shil- 
 ling, and instead of touching his cap by the way, 
 it was not a cap at all, but a hat with a huge 
 brim which, if you please, he took off with a 
 flourish and, declining the tip, remarked: 'Always 
 a pleasure to help a lady ! ' I thought I should 
 have died of shame at his insolence !" 
 
 I nearly choked, but fortunately did not, for 
 every one else was shocked. After a painful 
 silence Lady Agatha continued: "I must say 
 some people have a peculiar sense of humor. I 
 told this shocking story to Charlie Beresford, and 
 he laughed till the tears ran down his face, and 
 asked me to let him put it into a book he is writ- 
 ing on America. But I would not consent. It 
 [132]
 
 DOWAGER AND COWBOY 
 
 might give offense Americans are very sensitive 
 and I think it most important that nothing 
 should be done to cause ill-feeling between the 
 two countries, for, as Sir George was saying at 
 dinner, one cannot tell how soon we may need 
 one another's help." 
 
 Here Gertrude, who had been walking on the 
 terrace with the complacent secretary, came in 
 and took me to her room to talk about the blue- 
 eyed Guy. 
 
 Now you see why I do not want John to see 
 this letter. He thinks he has a strong sense of 
 humor, but it is ten to one he would no more 
 understand the dowager than she understood the 
 gentleman in the sombrero. How I should like 
 to meet Sir Charles Beresford and hear him on 
 dowagers and cowboys ! 
 
 But, honestly, are not the English the most 
 impossible people! I do not mean ridiculous- 
 no one would accuse them of being that but 
 funny as the camel is. "There ain't no sich 
 animal." Only there is I 
 
 [ 133]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 XXIV 
 
 "BY PURENESS, BY KINDNESS, BY LOVE 
 UNFEIGNED " 
 
 BEFORE leaving Shrewsbury I had told Ruth 
 on which train I would leave Saltbridge, and, as 
 I had to change trains at Manchester, she could 
 send a wire to the station there if she had any 
 special orders to give me. The wire was await- 
 ing me, and from it I found that not only had 
 Ruth gone off "on her own" to Deepford, but 
 that she had received an invitation from the 
 Sanfords asking us both to come to them. She 
 said that she was proceeding to London, and that 
 she would go to the Sanfords' by train, and hoped 
 I would meet her there with the car. 
 
 So I returned to Shrewsbury, where we had left 
 the car, and the next day drove slowly through 
 Stratford-on-Avon, where I had been before, and 
 so did not stop, waiting till Ruth and I could 
 make the pilgrimage together. I caught a glimpse 
 of the spire of the parish church and could "vis- 
 ualize" the smug bust in the chancel, which an 
 ungrateful town permits to be called Shakespeare ! 
 
 I stopped the night at Banbury, where there is 
 
 one of those old coaching inns which affect the 
 
 imagination like an old print. The following day 
 
 I went on to Oxford, where I left the car, and ran 
 
 [134]
 
 "BY PURENESS, BY KINDNESS, BY LOVE" 
 
 up to London for some necessary shopping. 
 This, I know, will make you indignant, but I am 
 going to "do" Oxford when Ruth, that lover of 
 "Lost Causes," is with me. Besides, as my next 
 journey is to the northeast, it was better to leave 
 the car at Oxford than to go through London. 
 
 When I returned to Oxford I went again on my 
 way and spent the night at Ipswich, in the same 
 inn in which Mr. Pickwick had the compromising 
 adventure with the lady in curl-papers. But 
 there was nothing seen to recall that joyous night. 
 No one I saw looked as if he had ever heard of 
 the most distinguished guest the inn had ever 
 entertained ! 
 
 The next day I reached the Sanfords' for tea. 
 I understand now why the heroine in an English 
 novel always arrives at tea-time ! It is the ideal 
 hour. One does not have to dress for a function 
 and is received into the family at once. 
 
 This family consists of but two the husband 
 and wife a lovely couple. I do not know which 
 of them we loved best when the visit was over. 
 An ancestor of Mr. Sanford's was one of the non- 
 jurors and that night I lay in his bed. As a bed 
 it was a good bed, but as a place for sleeping it 
 was naught as Touchstone would have said. 
 As I lay awake I thought of the noble folly of the 
 non-jurors, and of Macaulay's unsympathetic 
 picture of them, though, curiously enough, the 
 [ 135]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 only time he speaks well of a bishop, so far as I 
 remember, is when he praises the "seven bish- 
 ops." How characteristic this is! They are 
 admirable when they defy the Stuart, but con- 
 temptible when they refuse to bow the knee to 
 his Dutch hero! These thoughts led me on to 
 Henry Esmond that most interesting prig and 
 so on, hour after hour, the mind wandered 
 through the history of England till I longed for 
 the scenery of the land of Nod ! 
 
 I would not have you think that my wakeful- 
 ness was due solely to the imagination awakened 
 by the old non-juror's bed. It was due to a 
 more modern and more material cause, namely 
 the strong Ceylon tea, which was so good that I 
 had taken more than I am accustomed to. What 
 we call "English Breakfast," the English call 
 "China" tea, and, so far as my experience goes, is 
 seldom served. Certainly it could not have been 
 expected in this house, because Mr. Sanford is 
 largely interested in the cultivation of Ceylon 
 tea and, not unnaturally, thinks it superior to 
 China. It is undoubtedly good, but so strong 
 that it is apt to be followed by a sleepless night 
 on the part of the uninitiated. 
 
 The next day was Sunday, which began, I need 
 
 not say, with a bountiful breakfast, at which, of 
 
 course, we served ourselves, Mr. Sanford walking 
 
 around the room with a little blue bowl in his 
 
 [ 136]
 
 "BY PURENESS, BY KINDNESS, BY LOVE" 
 
 hand, eating porridge and talking delightfully. 
 By the way, do you believe the story of the 
 American "Belle Mere," who, arriving at the 
 castle of her noble son-in-law late at night and 
 therefore coming to the dining-room for the first 
 time at breakfast, and, seeing no servants, said to 
 her daughter: "Honey, can't you get no 'help' at 
 all over here ? " I do not. Ruth does, and begged 
 me not to tell the story here lest it be thought 
 that the good lady was typical ! 
 
 I do not think Mrs. Sanford would have be- 
 lieved it. But, if she had, she would have under- 
 stood, for she has many American friends and a 
 more sympathetic understanding of our problems 
 than any one I have so far met in England. Mr. 
 Sanford was rather inclined to be depressed about 
 England, and deplored the present policy of the 
 Liberal Government especially in regard to land. 
 Of course I know nothing about the matter, but I 
 could not help thinking I heard a faint echo of the 
 old non-juror's voice. This, however, is sure, he 
 is the quintessence of the feudal system at its 
 best, having its deep sense of responsibility. 
 
 We walked to the little church, which is at 
 their gate, and as we drew near and met the peo- 
 ple on their way to worship, I was struck by the 
 affection so much better than perfunctory re- 
 spect with which my hosts were greeted both by 
 farmers and tenants alike. 
 [137]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 Mr. Sanford showed Ruth and me into the 
 second pew in the transept, while he and his wife 
 occupied the one in front of it, which is the 
 squire's. He read the lessons, and I wished I 
 could read as well ! I once heard a distinguished 
 minister at home praised for his reading of the 
 Bible because it "sounded so modern as if he 
 were reading the morning paper." Well, his read- 
 ing was not in the least like that ! He read with 
 deep reverence, as "The covenant made with our 
 fathers" and now delivered unto us. 
 
 The rector, a cousin of our host's, was indis- 
 posed, and his place was taken by a near-by vicar. 
 The sermon had neither the interest of the morn- 
 ing paper nor the awe of an ancient revelation! 
 Indeed, it was a stupid thing, which I guessed 
 was one of those which, it is said, can be bought 
 "ready made," and of any shade of churchman- 
 ship. This one had no color at all ! 
 
 The preacher was invited to dine with the 
 squire and accepted. He must be a survival. 
 He explained the difficulty the country parson 
 has in collecting his tithes. Turning to his host, 
 he said: "I had a most disagreeable task last 
 week; Scroston was in arrears again, and I had 
 to distrain his cow." 
 
 Mr. Sanford looked much distressed, and said: 
 "I don't think I should have done that." 
 
 "Neither should I, had it been a personal mat- 
 [ 138]
 
 "BY PTJRENESS, BY KINDNESS, BY LOVE" 
 
 ter; but one must consider one's successor. If a 
 precedent were once established, it might lead to 
 much trouble." And to this there seemed to be 
 no reply ! 
 
 After dinner, when the neighboring parson had 
 left, Mr. Sanford suggested a "look round." Ruth 
 said she had some letters to write, which in Eng- 
 land means a nap, so we started off together. In 
 my ignorance I supposed a "look round" meant 
 a stroll about the place. I soon found it meant 
 something more like what we call a "hike." 
 
 There is a wide-spread impression among Ameri- 
 cans that England is a small place. Let any one 
 go with an English gentleman after a good Sunday 
 dinner, for a "look round," and I venture to say 
 he will change his mind ! I suppose I am "soft" 
 from motoring, but I know I was "all in" when 
 we at length reached home. But my host, no 
 longer a young man, seemed as fresh as when we 
 started. 
 
 He had been much amused by my attempts to 
 make up to a farmer, whom we met also "taking 
 a look round." We were crossing a beautiful 
 field, in which were some noble oaks whose wide- 
 spread branches cast so deep a shadow that it 
 looked black, and, by way of making myself agree- 
 able, I remarked to him: "I have been telling Mr. 
 Sanford how much I admire your trees. You 
 must be proud of them." 
 
 [139]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 "Aye, they look well to a town dweller, but I 
 never notice them except at hayin', and then I 
 wish they was anywhere else." 
 
 "But you turn your cattle into this field some- 
 times, I suppose, and they must enjoy the shade 
 on a hot day." 
 
 "Well, if they stand under one of them on a 
 hot day, they'll be in a draft, and get a chill, and 
 maybe die." 
 
 This certainly was not encouraging, but I did 
 not know enough to stop. Just then some heifers 
 came nosing around, and I said: "That's a 
 beautiful heifer." 
 
 "Which one?" said the farmer. 
 
 "The white one," said I. 
 
 "I wish you lived about here and I could sell 
 her to you. No farmer would buy her." 
 
 "Why not? "said I. 
 
 "We think the white ones is 'saft,'" he replied. 
 
 This, as I say, gave great satisfaction to Mr. 
 Sanford, who recounted it at tea with great gusto. 
 
 The servants all went to evening service, but 
 the family did not, so I "wrote letters" ! 
 
 Supper was served at nine o'clock, and then all 
 the servants came in for prayers "cook" first, 
 and the kitchen-maid last, the butler standing 
 aside to close the door, and then solemnly taking 
 his place. 
 
 Mr. Sanford read a chapter, and after that a 
 [ 140 ]
 
 "BY PURENESS, BY KINDNESS, BY LOVE" 
 
 beautiful prayer that all might be faithful in then- 
 duties, kind, and considerate to one another, 
 honor the King and love the church. Then Mrs. 
 Sanford took her place at the harmonium and 
 played several hymns, in which all the servants 
 joined I thought the footman's tenor worthy of 
 a church choir, and I suspect he thought so too ! 
 and I am sure the housemaid agreed with us 
 both ! Altogether the singing was beautiful. 
 
 When the service was over, Mr. Sanford said, 
 very simply: "My friends, we have now come to 
 the beginning of another week, and I wish to 
 thank you all for faithful service. If, at any time 
 I have been impatient with any of you, I ask your 
 forgiveness. And now I bid you all good night." 
 
 The butler showed them all out, looking at the 
 footman, I thought, as much as to say: "Have you 
 any complaint to make about the master ? If so, 
 kindly address yourself to me!" As for me, I 
 confess I had a "lump" in my throat. 
 
 As we drove away next morning, Ruth said: 
 "I suppose by this time you have become a 
 Tory!" 
 
 "No," I said, "not quite, but if you ever hear 
 me say a word against England again say 'San- 
 ford,' and I will cry 'Peccavi.' How cheap and 
 self-conscious democracy seems after this glimpse 
 of English gentle people. Where can their like 
 be found?" 
 
 [ 141 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 JOHN should be writing this, but he says he is 
 tired. I am sure he must be. But there is an- 
 other reason, which is that he is cross, poor dear, 
 and you, no doubt, will think with good reason 
 when you hear what he has been through. 
 
 On leaving Sharrow the Sanfords' place we 
 drove to the village where still stands the inn 
 known as "The Maypole" in "Barnaby Rudge." 
 Willit is dead, and I saw nothing as attractive as 
 Dolly Varden, nor anything as horrible, I am 
 thankful to say, as Hugh. In other words, we 
 felt as Thackeray says he felt when he visited 
 Tours it had none of the charm which he had 
 expected after reading "Quentin Durward"! 
 
 I urged John to leave the car at the Maypole 
 and go to town by train, for I knew it would be 
 an exhausting experience to drive through the 
 city. But no. He was determined to see if he 
 was enough of a chauffeur to accomplish a feat 
 which tries the nerve of a professional! So we 
 started. 
 
 The road led us to the east side of the city, 
 
 which we entered with the late market-carts. 
 
 No words can describe the congestion. It was 
 
 not only the innumerable wagons of every descrip- 
 
 [142]
 
 THE COUNTY FAMILIES 
 
 tion which made progress almost impossible, but 
 the swarms of creatures which I suppose one 
 must call "human," though there was little indi- 
 cation of their humanity except the power of 
 speech, and when one had heard that, one was 
 tempted to wish they were without it ! There are 
 veritably two Englands, the one we had just left, 
 of green fields and clear brooks and kind hearts 
 and noble deeds, and now this sink of iniquity. 
 There is nothing in New York to compare with it, 
 for, shocking as our tenement-house district is, 
 one is comforted by the thought that it is tem- 
 porary, that there is an upward trend, and that 
 the children of the tenements almost exclusively 
 of foreign-born parentage are destined to escape. 
 But these poor creatures are predestined to "dam- 
 nation" before they are born. There is all the 
 difference between the East Side of New York 
 and the East End of London that there is between 
 a stream which has been defiled by the drainage 
 of factories, but which will purify itself after it 
 has flowed a certain number of miles, and a 
 malarial swamp, whose stagnant waters have no 
 power of movement and, therefore, no hope of 
 cleansing, but will breed sickness from genera- 
 tion to generation. This is the reverse of the 
 medal inscribed "As it was in the beginning," etc. 
 Through this seething mass, then, we made 
 our way into White Chapel, the nursery of crime, 
 [ 143]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 into Cannon Street, where the great wholesale 
 houses distribute the wealth of the empire, and 
 where the great dray-horses, almost as large as 
 elephants, block the way, past St. Paul's, the 
 silent witness to a faith which the life around 
 seems to have forgotten if it ever heard of it ! 
 into Holborn, with its restaurants and shops and 
 law-courts, and at last into Leicester Square, with 
 its foreign population and its palatial music- 
 halls. 
 
 It has taken but a few moments to write this, 
 but it took hours to drive it, and I confess when 
 it was over I felt like the Irishman in the bottom- 
 less Sedan chair: "If it wasn't for the honor of 
 the thing, I'd as lief walk." I had the good sense 
 not to ask John how he felt. I could tell by look- 
 ing at him: his face was white and drawn. 
 
 Before we started from the Maypole, John had 
 suggested wiring to the "Holland" for rooms, 
 but I induced him to come here "Garvin's 
 Private Hotel" instead, and now I wish I had 
 not! 
 
 The Slocums had advised me to come here 
 rather than to one of the great caravansaries, which 
 they said are so "Cooksy." They told me that 
 they always stopped here, and that I should like 
 the class of people one meets here the county 
 families and also that one received that personal 
 attention which formerly made English hotels 
 [ 144 ]
 
 THE COUNTY FAMILIES 
 
 unique, and which Americans and Germans were 
 killing. 
 
 Well, I found it good enough. The bedrooms 
 may have been dingy to speak the truth they 
 were but the maid was pleasant and efficient, and 
 the dinner, if not exciting, was palatable. But 
 John said it "had nothing on a Lexington Avenue 
 boarding-house." The truth is, he was tired out, 
 and vexed because a telegram, which he had ex- 
 pected to find here, had not arrived. 
 
 The next day he went to the manager, and an 
 investigation was begun which led to the dis- 
 covery that the telegram, which had arrived the 
 day before, was in the porters' rack! It seems 
 that Garvin's has doors on two streets, and the 
 porter of the door by which we did not enter had 
 received it. When John asked why it had not 
 been sent to his room, he was informed, first, that 
 no one had told that porter that we were in the 
 house, and, second, that telegrams were sent only 
 to private sitting-rooms! I don't know which 
 excuse made him the more angry. It was then 
 he made his remark about the Lexington Avenue 
 boarding-house. Not that he knows anything 
 about them, for he has never stayed in one in his 
 life, but because it was the first thing he thought 
 of. It was an example of what I once heard you 
 call "the universe of discourse." But, "you 
 bet," I didn't tell him so ! 
 [145]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 At dinner John looked round the dreary dining- 
 room and asked where were the "county fami- 
 lies"? 
 
 I also was feeling the strain of the day, and said 
 "I hoped to meet them later." 
 
 He replied he hoped he might be out when they 
 called. 
 
 By this time I was well-nigh desperate, and sug- 
 gested that he go outside and smoke his cigar in 
 the street, for I had caught a glimpse of the 
 "Smoke Room," which looks out on a mews, 
 and is more like a dog-kennel than a room, and I 
 did not feel I could stand any more remarks 
 about "private hotels"! Entre nous, I advise 
 you never to go to one. I have no doubt if you 
 were a "county family," and came up every year 
 as your father had done before you, and took the 
 "first floor front," with a private sitting-room, 
 they would "do you well." But it is no place for 
 transients. 
 
 As we had no sitting-room, I went to the dreary 
 parlor to read and, if possible, to quiet my mind 
 before going to bed. But instead of reading, I 
 began to think of John, and the more I thought 
 of him the sadder I grew. I know no one who 
 bears the great troubles of life more patiently than 
 he, but a petty thing, like this telegram, poisons 
 him as the black flies poisoned me in the Adiron- 
 dacks! They only bite most people, but they 
 F 146 1
 
 THE COUNTY FAMILIES 
 
 send me to bed with a temperature ! And the 
 worst of it is he suffers such remorse after one of 
 these attacks. Why should we laugh at Mrs. 
 Gummage? There are people who "feel it more 
 than others." However, I reflected that there 
 was nothing I could do about it, and so turned to 
 my book. 
 
 It was one of those dreary books of Benson's, 
 which are conducive to intellectual and moral in- 
 digestion wallowing in imaginary emotions and 
 I did not see how I could read it in the frame of 
 mind I was then in. But I did not have to, for I 
 was suddenly startled by a voice saying: "If 
 you won't think me rude, I should like to know 
 where you got that hat?" 
 
 My first thought was that Garvin's was another 
 sort of private institution, but peering into the 
 dim corner, I saw a typical "county family," or 
 rather the head of one. He was a hale and hearty 
 old man, somewhat over sixty, and had the ruddy 
 complexion which only English country life can 
 give. I saw he was not dangerous, and also that 
 he was unquestionably a "gentleman," so I re- 
 plied: " I am glad you like it. I got it at Bonwit 
 Teller's." 
 
 "I don't know the shop," he said, in a disap- 
 pointed tone. 
 
 "Well, that is not surprising, for it is in New 
 York." 
 
 [147]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 "Really ! And are you an American ? I never 
 should have," etc. 
 
 "Did you want a hat like this for yourself?" I 
 demurely asked. 
 
 " Oh, I say ! Now you are trying to pull my leg." 
 
 I looked at the solid limb in question, and as- 
 sured him I had no such purpose. 
 
 "No, I didn't want it for myself. The truth 
 is, I saw you at dinner by the way, why do they 
 call that leather they served to-night 'mutton'? 
 I wonder if they have ever tasted mutton ? Awful 
 food they give one at these hotels nowadays! 
 Poison, I call it ! I always stop at my club when 
 I come up to town, but this time I have my wife 
 and daughter with me. Couldn't take them to 
 the club, of course, so came here. Family been 
 coming here forever, I should say; came when the 
 father of this man had it. This man married the 
 French maid, and she has put on the table a lot of 
 kickshaws, and calls them a 'menu. 1 Silly stuff. 
 There was no such nonsense in the father's time. 
 One just called the waiter and said, 'What's the 
 joint ? ' and that was all there was to it. But, as 
 I was saying, I saw you at dinner, and said to my 
 daughter: 'That's a deuced pretty -looking girl 
 over there, and I wish you had a hat like her's.' 
 You don't mind my telling you this? Wouldn't 
 do for a young man, but an old man has his privi- 
 
 [ 148 ]
 
 THE COUNTY FAMILIES 
 
 I assured hiin I was flattered, and the simple- 
 hearted old squire replied: "Not at all. The 
 simple truth." 
 
 I was rather confused at this and, not quite 
 thinking what I was saying, asked what his 
 daughter said. 
 
 "Why,' she said, 'if you admire the lady's 
 hat, you had better ask her where she got it.' 
 And, by George, I said I would, never dreaming, 
 you understand, that I should really ever speak 
 to you. 
 
 "You see, they have gone to the play, but as I 
 have taken a cold, something I never have at 
 home, I thought I would stop in and write some 
 letters. But the fire in my sitting-room (though 
 it is August, the evenings are chill) smokes so I 
 came in here, and no sooner got settled down than 
 I heard some one come in and, looking round, saw 
 it was you. Matilda will be surprised when she 
 learns that I have asked about the hat." And he 
 chuckled to himself at the thought. 
 
 I turned again to my book but the old man was 
 not done with me. "So you are an American. 
 Is it true that Americans have baths in their 
 drawing-rooms ? " 
 
 "I have never seen one there, but as they have 
 them generally about the house, I should not be 
 surprised." 
 
 "Oh, you must not take me too seriously," he 
 [ 149 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 said in a sorrowful tone; " I was only ragging you 
 a bit!" 
 
 I laughed, not, I fear, with, but at, the simple 
 old soul. 
 
 "I have never understood this craze for bath- 
 rooms myself," he continued; "I think it far 
 more comfortable to have the maid bring the tub 
 into the room at the same time she draws the 
 curtains and lights the fire, for then one takes 
 one's bath in comfort, rather than go into a cold 
 closet. Nor do I like to lie down in a tub. It 
 makes me feel as if I were ill at Harrowgate or 
 some such place, don't you know. More than 
 that, I suspect there is a lot of talk about bathing 
 that does not amount to much. There is a 
 daughter of one of my tenants who went as 
 housemaid to one of the great hotels in Chicago 
 the Blackamoor, I think it is called. She came 
 home to visit her mother a year ago, and I asked 
 her if it were true that many rooms had private 
 baths. She said that every room in the place 
 had its own bathroom, and that the very bag- 
 men, if you please, would swagger in and say, 
 'Room with bath,' but that days would go by 
 without their being used ! Just ordered them to 
 put on side. She is a very shrewd girl, and she 
 explained to me why it was that Americans have 
 so many bathrooms. She said the ladies insisted 
 upon it because they did not wish to be seen 
 [ 150 ]
 
 THE BOAT-RACE 
 
 going along the passages in the flannel gowns they 
 all wear. She said if they had handsome 
 bath-robes, such as English ladies wear, they 
 would not be ashamed to be seen going to the 
 bath." 
 
 Don't you think that girl earned a good tip? 
 But perhaps you, like my garrulous old friend, 
 will think I am trying to "pull your leg," but I 
 give you my word it is all true. I am not sure 
 whether you will say "Aren't they the limit?" 
 or "Can you beat it?" I said both I 
 
 John came in in a penitent mood, as I knew he 
 would, and brought me a superb bunch of roses 
 a sort of "sin-offering." What should I have 
 done had I married a saint ! 
 
 XXVI 
 
 THE BOAT-RACE 
 
 I THINK Ruth has written you about our stay 
 in London, so I will say nothing about it except 
 to advise you to avoid "private hotels." Ruth 
 has so many fine qualities that there must be 
 some flaws or she would not be long with us! 
 One of them is this: If a person of whom she is 
 fond advised her to go to well, I won't say it! 
 [151]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 no argument would have any effect upon her. She 
 would wish to start at once ! Well, that is over 
 for the time, so let us forget it. 
 
 By good chance we met the Ingrains from Boston 
 at the hotel, and they told us, what any porter at 
 a real hotel would have known, that the race 
 between Harvard and Cambridge was to take 
 place that day, so we started early in the car to 
 get a good place on the river-bank. We drew up 
 near Mortlake, where there is a bend in the river, 
 and which, I was told, was the best place because 
 the leading boat at that spot has seldom, if ever, 
 been passed. 
 
 It was one of those perfect days which redeems 
 the English climate, and shows that the poets 
 must have had some experience of heavenly 
 weather, and not, as the cynics on our side of the 
 water have suggested, imagined the weather 
 which they describe! The river was a sight not 
 soon to be forgotten. There were hundreds of 
 punts on the river and more pretty girls and stal- 
 wart young men than could be assembled in any 
 other country in the world, I suppose. All of 
 those were not on their way to the boat-race, 
 however, but were the usual Saturday crowd "out 
 for a good time." We saw scores of punts tied 
 up to the trees on the river-bank, in which the 
 girls were busy making tea, and the boys, clad in 
 white flannels, were smoking their brierwoods. I 
 I 152]
 
 THE BOAT-RACE 
 
 suppose there was the usual amount of sentiment 
 but it was not in evidence. Indeed, both girls 
 and boys seemed keen for tea ! 
 
 The right bank of the river was lined with 
 motors, while the path through the meadows on 
 the opposite side was crowded with those who had 
 come from town on buses and trams, and were 
 now running along the bank, seeking the best 
 places from which to view the struggle. But how 
 a race could be rowed on that river was more than 
 I could guess. One could not have moved a skiff 
 through the mass of boats which crowded it from 
 bank to bank. Yet nothing was done to clear 
 the course. I feared a foul. But just before the 
 time for starting, a little motor-boat shot out from 
 the bank, and without any blowing of whistles or 
 shouting or confusion of any sort, but apparently 
 in answer to the simple request of the official 
 standing in the bow of the launch, boats and punts 
 disappeared, as if by magic, and in a twinkling 
 the course was clear! I thought with shame of 
 what would be seen at home in like conditions 
 the noise and bullying, on the one hand, and the 
 overflowing of the course as soon as the backs of 
 the police were turned ! But this was a striking 
 exhibition at once of the law-abiding spirit of the 
 English and the equal respect of individual rights. 
 For, as I have said, the liberty of the individual 
 was respected up to the last moment, and then 
 [ 153]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 the crowd willingly conceded the rights of the 
 community. 
 
 Half New York seemed to be there, and one 
 heard the shrill voices of our charming com- 
 patriots as the word was passed along: "They 
 are off!" 
 
 The betting was in favor of the English crew, 
 and when the boats appeared around the bend 
 of the river, it was easy to see why it should 
 have been. 
 
 Harvard had the outside slightly longer 
 course, but even so, it was evident that they were 
 outclassed. Better form I never saw than Har- 
 vard showed. The men moved like a machine. 
 There was no splashing and no sound was heard 
 as the boat swept by. Not so Cambridge: the 
 water was churned as if with a screw, and there 
 was much shouting. It may have been only the 
 voice of the coxswain, but I thought I distinguished 
 several voices, but the boat moved, or, rather, it 
 seemed to leap, after each stroke, while the Har- 
 vard shell seemed to settle and wait after each 
 stroke for the next. Just as they passed us Har- 
 vard spurted, and a gallant effort it was, but too 
 late, and Cambridge shot under the Mortlake 
 bridge, nearly two lengths ahead. Then I heard 
 what I had never heard before and what I sup- 
 pose cannot be heard out of England the roar of 
 a great multitude. Our college yells seemed thin 
 [154]
 
 THE BOAT-RACE 
 
 in comparison the silence settled down, and the 
 river was filled again with the little boats, which 
 had scuttled to the banks to let the racers go by. 
 
 We went on our way wondering why it was that 
 no amateur American crew had ever beaten an 
 English one in a four-mile race. When the car 
 was blocked by a mass of motors a little distance 
 above the bridge, a punt floated slowly by, and 
 a nice-looking lad called out to me: "Which 
 won?" It never occurred to me that he, less 
 than a mile from the finish, did not know the re- 
 sult, when crowds were at that moment reading 
 the bulletins in Times Square and men were dis- 
 cussing it in the clubs hi Hong Kong. 
 
 So, thinking he was "pulling my leg," I an- 
 swered "Harvard." 
 
 " Hard luck," was all he said, as his punt slipped 
 quickly by. 
 
 I was therefore considerably startled when a 
 man in the car next ours remarked, in an in- 
 dignant tone: 
 
 "You had no right to say that. You know it is 
 not true!" 
 
 "Why," I replied, "so did he." 
 
 "Not at all, or he would not have asked." 
 
 "Well, I am sorry; I supposed he was poking 
 fun at me." 
 
 But this only made matters worse. For he 
 now shouted: 
 
 [155]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 "You had no right to assume that. The lad 
 was evidently a gentleman and would not have 
 been guilty of such an unsportsmanlike thing." 
 
 By this time I felt as if I had poisoned the 
 favorite for the Derby, and in desperation said: 
 
 "Well, after all, no great harm was done." 
 
 "That is more than you know," replied this 
 uncompromising individual; "he may have had 
 something on it!" 
 
 Now I felt as if I had picked the lad's pocket, 
 and did what any pickpocket would do, escaped 
 as soon as possible ! 
 
 We drove to Maidenhead for tea and had the 
 good luck to find there the Siegels. I don't think 
 you know them. He is one of the so-called 
 "Pittsburgh crowd" inventor of a patent car- 
 seat or something of the sort and has made a 
 mint of money. I have been told that in Pitts- 
 burgh he is called "Chilled Steel" ! Well, he is 
 anything but that when one meets him away from 
 business. He overflows with kindness and fun. 
 
 After cordial greetings I told him of my experi- 
 ence on the towing-path, and he was greatly 
 amused. 
 
 "But," he said, with mock solemnity, "you 
 ought to have known better than to monkey with 
 sport in England. It is their religion. It was 
 like crying 'To Hell with the Pope' on St. Pat- 
 rick's Day." 
 
 [156]
 
 THE BOAT-RACE 
 
 I said it was too bad Harvard was beaten. 
 
 "What did you expect?" he asked, and then: 
 "Did you have much on it?" 
 
 "Nothing but interest," I replied. 
 
 "That's where you are ahead of me," he said. 
 "I had some capital on it!" 
 
 "Did you expect Harvard to win?" 
 
 "Who, I? Not in a thousand years; but just 
 to cheer the boys up a bit I put a few pounds on 
 them. Well, it's all gone, but I guess I'll charge 
 it up to the 'Charity Fund,' and so have a few 
 coppers left for a cigar after dinner." 
 
 "No," he said, speaking seriously for a moment, 
 " I went down to the Harvard quarters yesterday 
 to see Tom Burch's son, who is in the crew, and, 
 say, I hadn't been there five minutes when all 
 the 'pep' began to ooze out of me. Those boys 
 have been training for three weeks in this muggy 
 climate, and it has sapped 'em. I don't say they 
 could have won, anyway, for I understand that 
 that Cambridge bunch is a hard proposition one 
 of the best crews they have turned out in years 
 but they might just as well have given our boys 
 a dose of bromide every morning before breakfast 
 as to train them in the Thames valley. If I had 
 the handling of a crew over here, I'd put them on 
 the river the day before the race, so as to learn 
 their way through this winding creek they call 
 a river, and the next day I'd call the race, while 
 [157]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 those boys still had some U. S. ozone in them. 
 Well, it's all in the family," he continued, "and 
 it will serve as a set-off to the cup races and the 
 polo games, and as long as it was not a German 
 crew that won, I don't much care." I saw by 
 the twitching of his lips that there was a story 
 coming, and was not disappointed. But it is 
 too long for this letter, and so will have to be 
 given in my next. 
 
 XXVII 
 
 THE CUSTOM-HOUSE 
 
 "MR. SIEGEL," I said, when tea was finished 
 and we had lighted his cigars, "I thought you 
 were 'German." 1 
 
 "You did, hey? Well, I'm German the same 
 way you are English! My grandfather was a 
 real German, but they ran him out in '48, and he 
 went over with Schurz and the rest of that band, 
 and if you can find better Americans than their 
 descendants, I do not know where they are. The 
 German of to-day is another creature, and I want 
 nothing to do with him. Those people are the 
 limit; 'verboten' this and 'verboten' that, till a 
 man doesn't dare do anything without asking 
 the policeman if he may. Women have to stand 
 in the gutter till an officer goes by. Why, when 
 [ 158]
 
 THE CUSTOM-HOUSE 
 
 we were in Berlin one of them would have run 
 Maria through with his sword if I hadn't told 
 him I was a friend of the Kaiser." 
 
 "Jim," exclaimed Mrs. Siegel, "how you do 
 talk ! You know he never touched me, and you 
 never spoke to the Kaiser!" 
 
 "Well, he didn't know it! And moreover, as 
 I am a friend of Carnegie now that he has gone 
 out of business and had on a good suit of clothes, 
 and so looked as if I could lend money to his 
 boss, he believed it was true, and so let you live. 
 Oh, I can manage the army all right, it is the 
 custom-house officer who 'gets my goat.' I un- 
 derstand how to deal with the American breed, 
 but I am helpless with those fellows. However, I 
 have got things fixed now, so that if we ever have 
 to go back there, it will not be as bad as it was 
 at Frankfort." 
 
 "What happened at Frankfort?" I asked. 
 
 "Well, I'll tell you. My doctor at home 
 wanted to go to Canada for the fishing, and fear- 
 ing a competitor would get his business away 
 from him, told me to go to Carlsbad and get a 
 good soak. When I had finished with the prune 
 pure, the veal and the water, I started for Frank- 
 fort to meet Maria, who had been at St. Moritz. 
 She had the usual twenty-one trunks, and I 
 asked for the keys and began to open them 
 getting one key in five right, accusing the French 
 [ 159]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 maid of having lost some of them, and getting the 
 usual French change in reply. 
 
 "Well, sir, if a man is looking for a sweat he 
 has no need to go to Carlsbad, let him try to open 
 his wife's trunks while a German pig in uniform 
 looks on ! When you tell him you can't find one 
 key, but it is the one for the soiled-clothes bag, 
 and he says that is the one he most wants to see, 
 you are 'up against it.' 
 
 " I should have had a fit hi a few minutes, I be- 
 lieve, if I had not caught sight of Charlie Wilson 
 at the other end of the shed, trying to get his 
 wife's trunks open. But he was not showing the 
 same patience and dignity as I was. His lan- 
 guage was something awful. He first told the 
 maid he had given her the key to the hat-box, 
 and she said he hadn't. Then he said he had 
 given it to his wife, and she said he hadn't, so I 
 knew he must be badly rattled. When a man 
 begins to change his lies it's a sure sign he has 
 lost his nerve. Mrs. Wilson began to cry, and 
 her pig laughed. So just to cheer them up a 
 bit I called out: 'Hello, Charlie, I thought you 
 were down at your place on Long Island.' Then 
 I thought Charlie was going to cry ! He wiped the 
 sweat off his face and, coming over to me, said : 
 
 '"Jim, this is something fierce! I have a per- 
 fectly good home where we can have chowder 
 three times a day, if we want it, and a swim in the 
 [ 160]
 
 THE CUSTOM-HOUSE 
 
 surf every evening, and things to drink that are 
 not made out of hair-oil, and I left it all and came 
 
 over here because that doctor told me to go 
 
 to HombergF 
 
 "Well, we finally got all the trunks open, and 
 as they found nothing they could fine me for, we 
 were allowed to drive to the hotel. Mrs. Wilson 
 was still dabbling her eyes with a bit of lace that 
 one tear would have made a sop, and Maria said 
 she was worn out, and was going to bed, and 
 Charlie said he must have a drink, and so I told 
 his wife I would go with him, and see that he did 
 not take two ! 
 
 "When this had been done I went to my room, 
 took off my coat and collar, and sat down to 
 wrestle with the problem of trunks. After a while 
 it came to me, and I rang for the porter. He 
 came, in his field-marshal's uniform, and said, 
 'Bitter?' and I said, 'Very bitter,' and then 
 asked him if he could speak the English language ? 
 He said he could speak all languages. I guess 
 that was right, but it would have been better if 
 he had spoken one at a time ! However, he finally 
 got it into his head that I wanted a locksmith, 
 and said he thought he could get one that evening 
 or the next morning. 
 
 "I said: 'My friend, you listen to me: every 
 minute you delay takes off a mark from what is 
 coming to you when I leave, so you can calculate 
 [ 161 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 how much will be owing me if you don't get a 
 move on.' 
 
 "Well, that got under his skin, and before long 
 he returned with a man in a green apron, who, he 
 said, was a locksmith. 
 
 "I explained to the porter that I wanted the 
 locks taken off every trunk, and twenty-one new 
 locks put on, which one key would fit. It took 
 him some time to understand that I did not want 
 twenty-one keys and one lock, but when he did, 
 he translated it into one of his five branches of 
 languages. The man in the green apron began 
 to run around in circles and said there were not 
 twenty- one locks alike in Frankfort. I asked 
 where they could be gotten, and Green Apron 
 said only at the factory. 
 
 "Well, where was that? 
 
 "In Munich or near there. If he wrote he 
 might be able to get them in a week. 
 
 "I asked if his health did not permit him to 
 travel. 
 
 "When he got that, he was instructed to take 
 the first train to Munich and get those locks, 
 bring them back and have them on the trunks by 
 noon the next day. It was Maria's birthday, 
 and I wanted to give her a surprise. 
 
 "Well, sir, it was done, and now life is easy. 
 The only drawback was that there were no more 
 German custom-houses for us to pass through, 
 [ 162]
 
 THE CUSTOM-HOUSE 
 
 and so no more officers who wanted to see how 
 many pieces we had in the wash, for we shipped 
 our baggage 'in bond' and when we reached 
 England the officer said: 'If you will open that 
 one, it will be all that I shall require,' and when 
 I offered him what would be expected at home, 
 he declined it ! However, I shall have some fun 
 at home when we get on the dock where the offi- 
 cers loaf while distracted Dassengers hunt for 
 keys. 
 
 "The porter got his tip, but whether it was not 
 as much as he had expected, or whether he 
 thought I had not shown proper respect for the 
 field-marshal's uniform, or for some other reason, 
 he did not seem grateful and said something 
 about tags. I told him I didn't need any, as I 
 had had mine printed before we left home. 
 
 "Maria says that I did not understand, that 
 the Germans are expecting a sort of Day of 
 Judgment, and that Tag means Day. Well, if 
 it comes while I'm still here, I'm willing to take 
 what's coming to me if sentence can be suspended 
 till I see some of those army and custom-house 
 officers get theirs. I worked in the rolling-mills, 
 when I was young, and I guess I can stand it 
 better than some!" 
 
 "Jim," said Mrs. Siegel, "you ought to be 
 ashamed of yourself, talking that way before Mr. 
 Dobson." 
 
 [ 163]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 "I guess that's right, mother, but Dobson 
 dresses and talks and acts so like a man that I 
 keep forgetting that he is a preacher." 
 
 As we drove away toward Windsor I said to 
 Ruth: "Is he not typical of hundreds we know, 
 and, in spite of their roughness, what a power 
 they are in the land !" 
 
 But Ruth had not found him so amusing as I 
 did. She said that she found that continuous 
 exaggeration, which is supposed to be the essence 
 of American humor, rather tiring, and added: 
 
 "I do not deny his good spirit and kindliness, 
 but underneath there seems to be a kind of hard- 
 ness in men of his sort that frightens me. Your 
 neighbor of this afternoon who rebuked you, was 
 unquestionably lacking in a sense of humor or 
 at any rate in the kind we are used to but he 
 was a finer type than this man, and I cannot 
 help feeling that the man who has an awful sense 
 of truth is a greater national asset than the man 
 we have just left." 
 
 When Ruth takes that tone I do not dare to 
 answer, but I may say to you that I do not think 
 she does these men justice. If "Der Tag" ever 
 comes and in my opinion it will not come I 
 think all this talk is just fluff still, if it should 
 come, I believe these reckless talkers, but shrewd 
 well, perhaps also hard men will give to the 
 nation all the shrewdness and all the energy 
 [ 164]
 
 THE "ROB" ROOM 
 
 which went into the upbuilding of their business, 
 and yet will keep on laughing at the world, and 
 at themselves, too, all the tune I 
 
 XXVIII 
 
 THE "ROB" ROOM 
 
 I ASKED John if he was writing to you and he 
 grinned and said perhaps I had better write. 
 The fact is, he has not been behaving very well, 
 and is, I suspect, rather ashamed of himself at 
 least, I hope he is I 
 
 We came to Windsor and put up at what 
 John insisted upon calling the "Purple Sow," 
 though it is really the "White Heifer." 
 
 The next morning we went to St. George's 
 Chapel, which seemed to me the most beautiful 
 church I had ever seen, and where the music 
 would have filled your heart with joy. By some 
 ill chance, it was one of the days when they sing 
 the Athanasian Creed, and, to my horror, John 
 refused to stand up! He said it was "blas- 
 phemous," and I felt like asking, like the man at 
 Barchester: "If you once begin, where will you 
 end?" But thought it best to let him alone. 
 
 The same afternoon we were shown over the 
 castle with a horde of sightseers. John was per- 
 [ 165]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 fectly quiet until we came to the room in which 
 the trophies are displayed. As we were standing 
 before one of the glass cases in which are splen- 
 did swords and cups of gold and jewels from India 
 and China, and "the uttermost parts of the sea" 
 a record of the least admirable page in English 
 history John, I could see by the expression of 
 his face, was thinking. I could only hope he 
 would not "start" anything! But he is like 
 Benny Joyce, who, when he was asked in Sunday 
 School if he had any faults, replied that he thought 
 he could say he was without any, except when his 
 brother Tony provoked, him ! 
 
 Well, John's "brother Tony" was near at 
 hand, in the person of the typical English shop- 
 keeper. 
 
 Turning to John, he said, in a tone half-ashamed 
 and half-exultant: 
 
 "I say, we have collared a lot of things, have 
 we not?" 
 
 "Yes," replied John, "that is why it is called 
 the 'Rob' room!" 
 
 I must say, while I wished he had said nothing, 
 I do think this was awfully quick ! 
 
 The man looked puzzled for a moment, and then 
 replied: "I suppose you mean the Robe Room." 
 But as he received no answer he evidently thought 
 it over, and then burst out with: 
 
 "Oh, I say! That's awfully good. I see, 
 [ 166]
 
 THE "ROB" ROOM 
 
 ' Rob ' room ! Would you mind if I told that to 
 my wife?" 
 
 John grimly remarked that he would be de- 
 lighted. So he trotted off to the other side of 
 the room and began talking with evident glee to 
 a woman with a most uncompromising face. 
 Apparently her reaction was not what he had 
 expected, and his countenance fell. He returned 
 to John, and in a most truculent tone, remarked: 
 
 "You are an American, aren't you?" 
 
 To which John, in an equally aggressive tone 
 answered: "I thank God I am." 
 
 " I thought so," he replied. "And, if you don't 
 mind my saying so, my wife thinks, and I quite 
 agree with her, that your remark was a most 
 objectionable one." 
 
 Did you ever hear of anything more absurd? 
 I am glad to say John had the good sense not to 
 make a scene. So we withdrew but not with 
 the honors of war ! Do you wonder he does not 
 feel like writing to you ? 
 
 We had intended going west from here and re- 
 suming our interrupted journey, but a letter from 
 Lady Groves, who is a friend of Maud's, asking 
 us to spend the night with them at their place, 
 near Reading, delayed us again. 
 
 We did not arrive this time for tea as there was 
 something the matter with the car ignition 
 trouble, I believe but fortunately it was put 
 [ 167]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 right in time for us to reach our destination for 
 dinner. 
 
 How can one express the charm of a welcome 
 to an English house? These people, who seem 
 so " standoffish," when one does not know them, 
 expand into the most winning cordiality when 
 they receive one into their own homes. So that 
 one feels that an "Englishman's house is not 
 alone his castle, but also a hospice!" 
 
 The bedroom, to which I was shown, called the 
 "Bird" room, because of the pattern of the paper 
 and the chintz, was filled with real "Sheriton," 
 which had never even heard of Grand Rapids ! 
 There was a dressing-room for John, equally at- 
 tractive, but more "manly." 
 
 John, as usual, declined to give up his keys to 
 the footman, and threw his things around every- 
 where, in what looked like hopeless confusion, 
 but in a way which, as he said, enables him to 
 "find things." 
 
 There were but two guests besides ourselves at 
 dinner, a Mr. and Miss Buckthorne. Sir William 
 took me in and Mr. Buckthorne Lady Groves, so 
 Miss Buckthorne fell to John. 
 
 It seems the Buckthornes had one of the finest 
 private collections of "Sir Joshua's" in England, 
 but they are "land-poor" and so have been obliged 
 to sell most of them. I thought it might interest 
 Miss Buckthorne to hear about one of them, 
 [ 168]
 
 THE "ROB" ROOM 
 
 which Mr. Frazer bought, and began to explain 
 how it was hung in his new gallery. 
 
 Perhaps it was not tactful to speak of it at all, 
 at any rate she was not in the least interested, 
 and from her manner I thought John was not 
 likely to have a good time. 
 
 Her brother, on the other hand, was a most 
 interesting person, so much so that I listened so 
 intently to his conversation that I forgot all about 
 John and his partner. When, however, I did look 
 at him, I found that there was an ominous silence 
 on his side of the table. When we went up- 
 stairs I inquired how he had enjoyed himself. 
 He was delighted with his host and hostess, and 
 said that he found Mr. Buckthorne one of the 
 best-informed men he had ever talked with, but 
 rudely remarked that "she," meaning, I gathered, 
 Miss Buckthorne, "was the limit." 
 
 I said: "I noticed you did not have much to 
 say to one another." 
 
 "I had plenty to say to her," he growled, "but 
 after the first course she never spoke to me." 
 
 "Oh, John," I said, "tell me just what hap- 
 pened." 
 
 "Well," he said, looking rather sheepish, "we 
 did not hit it off." 
 
 "I hope you did not criticise England?" 
 
 " Certainly not," he indignantly replied. " Well, 
 I will tell you just what happened. As we were 
 [ 169]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 going into the dining-room she said to me, in that 
 wooden voice of hers: 'How do you manage in 
 America, about precedence, having no aristoc- 
 racy?' 
 
 "I said, 'We are greatly troubled about it, and 
 I fear will never find a solution of the problem 
 until we become again an English colony.'" 
 
 "John," I cried, "how could you?" 
 
 "Well, she looked so melancholy that I thought 
 I would jolly her up a bit." 
 
 "Yes," I retorted, "but haven't you been here 
 long enough to learn that what you call 'jollying' 
 the English call 'ragging,' and leave it to school- 
 boys, and do not indulge in it at dinner-parties?" 
 
 "Well, I learned to-night," he replied. Seem- 
 ingly that was the end of the matter, but I knew 
 better, and insisted upon knowing all, so he con- 
 tinued: "She asked what we were doing in the 
 meantime, and I said: 'Oh, we are just experi- 
 menting.' 
 
 ' ' How do you mean " experimenting," ' she said. 
 
 "Well, at one house the butler, when he an- 
 nounced dinner, said: 'The oldest lady present will 
 please go in first.' Of course, no one would move; 
 so that night we had no dinner. The next dinner 
 we went to, he said : ' This evening it is requested 
 that the most beautiful lady present will lead the 
 way.' And as they all rushed together, several 
 people were injured, and again the dinner had to 
 [ HO]
 
 VESTED INTERESTS 
 
 be given up. And, when I left, I found that 
 every one was standing as near the door as pos- 
 sible, so as to slip in first and get the best seat at 
 table." 
 
 She gasped, and exclaimed, "How extraor- 
 dinary!" and never spoke another word during 
 the dinner. I do not know now whether she is 
 thinking it over, or whether she suspects that I 
 was engaged in that interesting pastime of "pull- 
 ing her leg," though from the glimpse I caught 
 But I spare you ! 
 
 XXIX 
 
 VESTED INTERESTS 
 
 I THINK Ruth has written you some nonsense 
 about me to which I hope you will pay no atten- 
 tion. She is somewhat of a romancer. I do not 
 mean that the bare facts are not as she states 
 them, but I have your own high authority for 
 the dictum that "A fact is often a most mislead- 
 ing thing"! 
 
 At any rate, I know she could not have told 
 you about the interesting conversation we men 
 had over our cigars after dinner, last night. 
 After the ladies withdrew Sir William asked me 
 many questions about our church. He wished 
 particularly to learn how "The Anglican Church 
 [171]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 in the States" got on without the supervision of 
 the state. I explained how rectors were "called," 
 and bishops elected, and deputies to the General 
 Convention chosen, etc. He was greatly inter- 
 ested, and said that unless something was done 
 to give the laity a voice in the management of the 
 parish, he believed the days of the Church of 
 England were numbered. I asked him why he 
 felt so despondent, and he said: 
 
 "Take the case of this parish: the rector is an 
 uncouth creature who was given the living by a 
 man to whom his father was tutor, and who prob- 
 ably took orders with this in view, for he is far 
 more interested in his glebe than in the cure of 
 souls. He will not listen to any suggestions, but 
 goes his own way. All the money goes into his 
 hands and there is no accounting to any one. I do 
 not suggest that he is dishonest, but I do say that 
 a~man who had the right feeling would recognize 
 that the people should know the amounts given, 
 and the purposes for which they are used." 
 I said: "Surely there is a churchwarden?" 
 "True, but he is the schoolmaster, appointed 
 by the rector and dependent upon him. The ser- 
 vice is conducted in a most slovenly manner, and 
 the music is quite painful. I offered to pay for a 
 proper choirmaster, but he said that was an in- 
 sult to his wife's sister, who plays the organ. The 
 result of his bad manners and dictatorial spirit is 
 [ 172]
 
 VESTED INTERESTS 
 
 that the congregation has dwindled to a mere 
 handful, and they are mostly children whom the 
 schoolmaster compels to come. The fact is that 
 dissent is increasing at an alarming rate, and I 
 think that soon there will be nothing left but the 
 parson and the glebe!" 
 
 "Can the bishop do nothing?" I asked. 
 
 "Apparently not. The bishop says that if a 
 responsible person will prefer charges he will take 
 the matter up, but that ' a man cannot be deprived 
 of his living because he happens to be unpopular.' 
 Of course, if the Church of England exists to pro- 
 vide 'livings,' there is nothing more to be said. 
 But if its purpose is to minister to the people, a 
 way must be found to accomplish that. But I 
 fear the attempt will prove fatal to the Establish- 
 ment." 
 
 Of course, you and I should not feel that this 
 would be fatal to the church, but what these men 
 fear is that if the impartial hand of the state is 
 withdrawn, the church will become a sect, or 
 rather as many sects as there are now parties. 
 And if disestablishment comes before the laity 
 have gained their rights, we can guess what the 
 "ecclesiastic" clerical, and especially the laymen 
 whom Thomas Browne once referred to as 
 "ecclesiastical eunuchs" ! will make of it. 
 
 Mr. Buckthorne, who had kept silent while we 
 were talking, now said: "This is a hard case, but 
 [ 173]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 it is nothing to what our parish has to endure." 
 I said, "What is your trouble? What has your 
 parson done?" 
 
 "You might better ask what has he not done ! 
 In the first place, there is a very ugly story about 
 a farmer's daughter the rights of which I neither 
 know nor wish to know but as a result none of 
 the farmers will have anything to say to him. 
 In the second place, he sits in the bar of the 
 public house every Saturday night till closing 
 time, drinking with the village topers, and con- 
 sequently the respectable tradesmen will not 
 come into the church. And finally it is reported 
 I do not say it is true, for I should not like to 
 bring such a charge against any man without 
 positive proof but I do know it is commonly 
 believed that he has shot partridges sitting! and, 
 of course, after that, no gentleman will have any- 
 thing to do with him." 
 
 "I should hope not," cried Sir William in- 
 dignantly. 
 
 No, I did not laugh at this moral anticlimax. I 
 again asked if the bishop could do nothing. 
 
 "Oh, the bishop has been appealed to, and, 
 being a good man himself and a gentleman, is, 
 of course, greatly distressed. I was one of those 
 who went to see him, but all he could say was: 
 'Dear me, this is very sad. But it is to be re- 
 membered that the man is a rector and has a 
 [ 174]
 
 VESTED INTERESTS 
 
 vested interest in the living. Of course, if re- 
 sponsible people can be found to substantiate 
 these charges, undoubtedly he could be brought 
 to trial, but it must not be forgotten that the law 
 against libel is very stringent, and I should not 
 care to move unless I could be assured that a ver- 
 dict in my favor was a little more than probable.' 
 And so the matter was dropped." 
 
 "What shall we say to these things?" Well, 
 the obvious thing is that it is not royalty, as the 
 Fourth of July orators used to declaim, nor the 
 House of Lords, as the Hyde Park speakers are 
 asserting, nor the palaces of the bishops, as some 
 of our non-conformist friends believe; it is the 
 "vested interests," which the new democracy 
 must blast out of church and state before the people 
 can determine their own destiny. 
 
 I suspect, if we were face to face, you with your 
 sceptical spirit would suggest that there is some- 
 thing else to be said, which is that this quiet and 
 intelligent-looking Mr. Buckthorne may have 
 been feeding me on the same diet I served to his 
 sister. At any rate, if not about the lesser im- 
 morality of his parson, at least about his heinous 
 crime of shooting partridges, sitting. 
 
 I do not deny that this is possible, and indeed, 
 
 much as I should wish to believe such a story, I 
 
 am almost in hopes it is not true, for, if you will 
 
 read to the end of this long story which must, 
 
 [175]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 however, be left to my next you will see why I 
 have to-day a fellow feeling for the wretch, which 
 last night I should have thought impossible ! 
 
 XXX 
 
 "THE AULD UN'" 
 
 WE had intended to take our departure the 
 next morning, but Sir William was so insistent 
 that we should stay at least a part of the day 
 that we decided to wait until the afternoon. 
 This gave great pleasure to Ruth, who wished to 
 see the garden she is still dreaming of that 
 country parsonage where she will have a garden 
 of her own ! 
 
 As there was nothing in particular for me to do 
 our host suggested that I might take a gun and 
 go out with him to "pick up a few rabbits." I 
 told him the only ones I was likely to pick up 
 would be those shot by some one else, for I had 
 not handled a gun since I was in college. But, 
 evidently, he felt about that as you would feel if 
 a brother parson were to say that he was so rusty 
 in his Greek that he could not read his New Testa- 
 ment. It would not seem credible ! 
 
 You must know that nothing can be done in 
 England without "dressing for the part." Sir 
 [176]
 
 'THE AULD UN'" 
 
 William was already arrayed for the battue, but 
 I had to get out some knickerbockers, which took 
 time because the troublesome footman had put 
 them away! However they were found at last, 
 and they with my Norfolk jacket made me pre- 
 sentable, so we started with the keeper, who car- 
 ried over his shoulder a sack in which were evi- 
 dently live creatures of some sort, for the bag was 
 constantly agitated. I hoped they might be 
 rabbits for me to "pick up," but they proved to 
 be ferrets. 
 
 When we reached the warrens these crawling 
 creatures which look like diminutive dachshunds 
 were shaken out of the bag and promptly melted 
 into the earth. Soon there was heard a faint 
 squealing, and the keeper announced that one of 
 the young ferrets was killing a rabbit and would 
 be of no further use to us. But the others had a 
 deeper sense of duty, or were better sportsmen 
 which seems to mean the same thing for soon 
 the rabbits began to pop up all over the place. 
 Sir William had potted two before I could get my 
 gun to my shoulder. The keeper called my at- 
 tention to the fact that it was necessary to "look 
 lively," but that is a thing at which I have never 
 been good. 
 
 However, I determined that I would do better 
 the next time the rabbits appeared. This I did, 
 for a moment later I saw a little bunch of fluff, 
 [ 177 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 no bigger than your fist, roll over and then lie 
 still. One would have thought I had killed a 
 bull moose, so generous was the applause of the 
 keeper and Sir William. I felt like Mr. Winkle 
 or was it Mr. Tupman when he shut his eyes 
 and brought down the bird ! I shot a number of 
 times more but without success, and began to 
 think I really must look more lively still. And I 
 did ! There were a few moments when no more 
 rabbits appeared, though, from time to time, one 
 of those slimy ferrets would come to the surface, 
 stretch its long neck and look around to see if any- 
 thing of interest appeared, and then silently melt 
 again into the earth. Suddenly a head appeared 
 from a hole some distance away. Sir William did 
 not move evidently had not seen it, so, think- 
 ing this was my chance I fired, and the creature 
 rolled over, kicked once or twice, and then lay 
 still. 
 
 I looked for applause, but as you may have 
 noticed the audience does not always respond at 
 the moment one expects ! 
 
 There was a moment of silence, and then Sir 
 William exclaimed: "Good Lord! You've shot 
 the ferret!" 
 
 The keeper groaned as if he had lost his only 
 child, and said, with tears in his voice: "It was 
 the auld un'." 
 
 There was nothing to be said, and the keeper 
 [ 178]
 
 "THE AULD UN"' 
 
 sadly buried his favorite, and I felt as if I were 
 one of that party who had buried Sir John Moore: 
 
 " Not a drum was heard. 
 Slowly and sadly we laid him down! " 
 
 We walked away without a word. There came, 
 however, to my mind a story Sir William had 
 told me as we left the house in the morning, of 
 an American who came over to one of the great 
 " Shoots" in Yorkshire and asked his host as 
 they started out the first morning, "How much 
 he ought to give the keeper?" and he replied: 
 " It depends upon where you hit him." I laughed 
 then, but I was not laughing now! For I was 
 wondering what sum would make good the loss 
 of an"AuldUn'." 
 
 I gave the keeper what I could afford indeed 
 more but I am not sure he will ever be the 
 same man again! I know one thing. I could 
 have bought a fat red deer for what that little 
 handful of fluff cost me ! 
 
 As we started to leave the little clump of pines 
 which had been the scene of the murder, the 
 keeper threw the sack on the ground and said 
 to the boy who had accompanied us to bring 
 home the rabbits, I suppose "You can bring 
 'em home, Jock." 
 
 He evidently had not the heart to gather up 
 the remaining ferrets, and so strode away after 
 [ 179]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 Sir William. The boy looked up at me with a 
 grin and held up the index finger of his right 
 hand, on which there was the scar of a bite. I 
 gathered that he and the "Auld Un'" had not 
 been the best of friends, and that there was one of 
 the party who did not mourn its untimely death ! 
 
 I hurried after the others, and when I caught 
 up with them, broke my gun to eject the lethal 
 cartridge and the one that had not been fired, 
 but my host said: "Oh, I wouldn't do that; we 
 might meet a grouse on the way back. Jenkins," 
 he said, turning to the keeper, "have you seen 
 any hereabouts?" 
 
 "There was a brace, Sir William, in the stubble- 
 field this morning. They may be around now, 
 we might take a look." 
 
 "I think, then," said Sir William, "we will cut 
 through the Green Lane, and see what there is 
 in that field." 
 
 We had hardly entered the lane when a bird 
 rose from behind a bush with a whirr that startled 
 me, but I fired almost without taking aim, and 
 brought it down. There was an awful silence, 
 and then Sir William said, in a strained voice: 
 "I hardly know what we had better do. Still, 
 as it is done, Jenkins, you had better send it up 
 to the Hall." 
 
 "Excuse me, Sir William," said Jenkins, "but 
 there would be a lot of talk in the servants' hall, 
 [ 180 ]
 
 "THE AULD UN'" 
 
 and I think it would be better if I took it home 
 with me and burned the feathers, and no one but 
 ourselves need be any the wiser. Thank God, 
 the boy is back there in the wood ! And I don't 
 suppose the gentleman will talk." 
 
 After a long pause my host replied, with a sigh, 
 that he supposed that would be best. 
 
 Perhaps you will be asking, what was the 
 trouble ? I knew no more than you ! At first 
 I thought I must have killed the twin brother of 
 the "Auld Un'" but reflected that ferrets do not 
 fly. It could not have been one of the keeper's 
 children as I feared when I caught a glimpse of 
 his face, for children do not have feathers to burn ! 
 At last, I said, rather testily, I fear: "Would you 
 mind telling what is the trouble?" 
 
 Sir William looked at me, more in sorrow than 
 in anger, and solemnly replied: "It was a 
 pheasant" 
 
 Even then I did not understand. But little 
 by little it came out that I had committed the 
 unpardonable sin. For the time of pheasants 
 was not yet ! There is a heavy fine for shooting 
 them out of season, but that did not trouble my 
 generous host. It was the shame of the thing! 
 If it were ever known among his fellow sports- 
 men that he or his keeper had been seen with a 
 dead pheasant in their possession before the ap- 
 pointed day, he was a ruined man ! 
 [181]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 Never again can I laugh at Mr. Winkle ! It is 
 true I had not posed as a sportsman, but I should 
 have had the moral courage to decline to have 
 anything to do with a sport which might bring 
 sorrow to the owner of the beloved "Auld Un'," 
 and entail a shameful secret on my kindly host. 
 
 Much as I h'ke them, I was glad to leave these 
 kindly people, and one of them at least, I am sure, 
 was glad to have me go ! I can only hope that I 
 may not be hereafter bracketed in his mind with 
 the miscreant who is suspected of shooting par- 
 tridges "sitting"! 
 
 XXXI 
 
 CHURCH AND STATE 
 
 WE were now headed for Chester, but stopped 
 the Sunday at Malvern. We had to take ref- 
 uge in the hotel near the station because 
 the more select one was full; but we found it 
 comfortable, and the people with whom we came 
 in contact made up for the exclusive refinement 
 of the smaller inn. 
 
 On Sunday morning Ruth announced that she 
 was going to take a "day off," so I went to the 
 Abbey alone. It is a beautiful building in spite 
 of restorations, but, as usual, I was more inter- 
 ested in the people than in the building, and as I 
 [ 1821
 
 CHURCH AND STATE 
 
 had to look with Ruth's eyes as well as my own, 
 the first thing that attracted me was the number 
 of children present, and, secondly, the beauty of 
 the girls' hair. There were a score of girls whose 
 hair would have made the fortune of the proprietor 
 of a capillary tonic. It was long and glossy, and 
 fine as silk. Sometimes, it seemed to me, the 
 color was rather pale, but it floated over their 
 shoulders in waves of beauty. I thought of St. 
 Paul's remark that a woman's glory is her hair, 
 which showed a more sympathetic appreciation 
 than one would have expected from such a source. 
 Indeed, it is almost the only thing he says about 
 women which appeals to the modern mind. 
 
 You remember Newman's complaint, in the 
 Apologia, that if there is anything more dreary 
 than the Anglican service, he does not know 
 what it is. Well, that may have been true in his 
 day before the Romantic spirit, which in its eccle- 
 siastical form we call the Oxford Movement, had 
 revealed the beauty of the liturgy, but it could 
 hardly have been justly said of the service this 
 morning at the Abbey. But the sermon ! I have 
 since learned that the vicar was ill and that a 
 curate was suddenly called upon to take his place. 
 It would have been far better had there been no 
 sermon at all. The service was enough. I be- 
 lieve it is often enough, and the trouble with us 
 parsons is that we do not know when to stop! 
 [183]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 I do not mean after the sermon has begun, but 
 before it! Certainly in this church, had the 
 organist been taken suddenly ill they would not 
 have called on a choir boy to play the organ, nor 
 should that curate have been allowed to fret the 
 congregation as he did. Well, it had one merit, 
 it was but ten minutes long. 
 
 As I walked away I was joined by a man 
 whom I had noticed at the hotel. He abruptly 
 remarked: "Beastly sermon!" Well, "dog will 
 not eat dog," so I only said : " Did you think so ? " 
 
 "I should say I did. I call it a disgrace to 
 allow such an exhibition. Damn lazy beggar, he 
 didn't even get his text right. I wonder if there 
 is any other profession in which such incom- 
 petence would be tolerated ? I do not know what 
 his stipend may be, I only know he is grossly 
 overpaid no matter how small it may be." 
 
 There did not seem to be anything to say that 
 would not sound like an anticlimax after such 
 eloquence, so I kept silence, a thing, by the way, 
 an Englishman never resents. 
 
 One often hears it said that Englishmen do not 
 care for sermons, but I suspect they like them as 
 much as other people, when they can get them! 
 I have been wondering since if I should have been 
 so much impressed by the girls' hair if there had 
 been more men in the church ! 
 
 As you know the Cause Celebre is making great 
 [ 184 ]
 
 CHURCH AND STATE 
 
 excitement here as all over the world perhaps 
 more here. As the judges were expected to give 
 their decision yesterday, I hurried to the railway 
 station early this morning to get a Sunday paper. 
 But there are no such things ! Did you know 
 that? It seems incredible that the result of this 
 portentous trial is known all over the world except 
 a hundred miles from the spot where the verdict 
 was given. But it is so ! 
 
 In the evening I attended service at the little 
 church near the hotel Ruth's day off lasting 
 into the evening! Not that I am surprised. 
 We parsons work off the nervous strain in the 
 act of preaching and forget that the family has 
 the strain without the relief! At any rate, that 
 is the way with Ruth. I think she expects each 
 Sunday that I shall come, what the English call 
 a "cropper," so I am glad when she can be in- 
 duced to rest on the Lord's Day. But, on the 
 other hand, a parson is like an actor, of whom I 
 have heard it said that if he gets a night "off" 
 he goes to some other theatre ! Well, apart from 
 its religious influence, which I trust was not alto- 
 gether lacking, I am glad I went to this church, 
 for reasons I will now explain. 
 
 When the time for the notices came, the parson, 
 
 with more hesitations and swallowings than I can 
 
 describe, said: "My brethren, at this morning's 
 
 service (ahem) I reminded you that a trial in 
 
 [ 185]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 which the whole world is interested, (swallow) 
 and in which questions of the most momentous 
 importance were to be decided, (ahem) was being 
 held, (ahem) and I suggested (swallow) that it 
 would be well, if in your private prayers, (ahem) 
 you would ask that the judges might be guided to 
 a right judgment. Since then, however, (a fear- 
 ful swallow) I have been informed that a private 
 telegram (ahem) has been received, by a person 
 present at this morning's service, saying (ahem) 
 that the judgment had been rendered yesterday. 
 Possibly (ahem) it may seem to some of you 
 (swallow) that prayers offered after an event 
 (ahem) could in no wise affect that (swallow) 
 event (swallow) and (ahem) were therefore quite 
 futile. But while this is (ahem) a not unnatural, 
 it is (swallow) a hasty conclusion. It may be 
 that they will not immediately (ahem) effect a re- 
 versal of a judgment which, I am sure we all feel, 
 was wrong. But even if that should not be the 
 result, who can put a limit to the Divine Omnipo- 
 tence? I do not believe those prayers were in 
 vain I do not believe any prayers are in vain. 
 I believe that in ways we cannot foresee, God will 
 bring good out of evil." 
 
 You will note how, when he got on his own 
 ground of personal experience, his confidence in- 
 creased and his hesitations ceased. Illogical as it 
 all sounds when it is put down in "cold" type, I 
 [186]
 
 CHURCH AND STATE 
 
 could not but admire the man's courage in stick- 
 ing to his guns. And I suspect he had laid hold 
 of a great truth which he could not quite swing 
 as who could? and shall watch this case with 
 new interest to see if pubh'c opinion (which some- 
 how we dissociate from the influence of God's 
 Spirit) does not compel the court to do justice 
 in spite of all. 
 
 I suppose there must have been a sermon, but 
 I cannot remember anything about it. I had 
 enough to think of in meditating on the notice ! 
 I wonder how often this is the case ! 
 
 On returning to the hotel I went into the 
 smoking-room for a final pipe. There were three 
 other men there, evidently "gentry" you know 
 the type and also the oppressive silence of such 
 places. One would have supposed that no one 
 of them had ever seen the other! For a long 
 time no one spoke. Finally one of them said: 
 
 "That was an extraordinary remark of the 
 parson's this morning, asking the congregation 
 to ask in their prayers that the French judges 
 might be led to a right judgment, when many of 
 us knew they had already rendered their de- 
 cision!" 
 
 The silence which followed was so long that I 
 thought the others did not wish to be drawn into 
 a discussion on such a subject. But I was mis- 
 taken. One of them, when he "got good and 
 [187]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 ready," as they used to say in the part of the 
 country I know best, expressed himself as follows: 
 
 "It was worse than futile, it was highly im- 
 proper. I felt incensed ! I should never dream 
 of praying for the damned scoundrels I should 
 consider it almost blasphemous." 
 
 Another long silence, and then he continued: 
 "Moreover, I resent any attempt on the part of 
 a parson to dictate to me what I should or should 
 not pray for. I consider such things entirely 
 private between me and my Maker. His advice 
 was an infringement of personal liberty, and I 
 highly resent it." 
 
 As no one spoke for a little space, I had time 
 to rejoice in this exhibition of sturdy Protestant 
 independence, but finally the silent member of 
 the party spoke: 
 
 "I am thankful to say," he remarked, as he 
 knocked the ashes out of his pipe, "that I was not 
 present. My wife told me about it, and I said 
 to her: 'My dear, this only illustrates what I have 
 said more than once, that the clergy never in- 
 trude into politics without making damn fools of 
 themselves.'" 
 
 I fled and sought for Ruth ! At length I found 
 her sitting in the drawing-room with three ladies 
 probably the wives of the smokers. She did 
 not see me, and this is what I heard: 
 
 First Lady: "Do you mean to say you like to 
 live in America?" 
 
 [ 188]
 
 CHURCH AND STATE 
 
 Ruth: "Yes, very much." 
 
 First Lady: "But do you not have a great deal 
 of lynching there ? " 
 
 Ruth (confusedly): "I am sorry to say we do 
 have a good deal." 
 
 Second Lady: "What is lynching?" 
 
 First Lady: "Why, if a man is unpopular in a 
 community, the leading people drag him away 
 to a convenient tree and hang him. Sometimes 
 they burn him. Shocking, is it not?" 
 
 Second Lady: "It would be shocking as a 
 regular thing, but I confess it seems to me a most 
 admirable custom for certain occasions, and I 
 should be glad if it were brought over with other 
 American inventions that we have found so con- 
 venient. Think what it would mean to wake 
 up to-morrow and learn that Lloyd George had 
 been hanged in the night!" 
 
 Third Lady (vindictively}: "Yes, and better 
 still, the whole Liberal cabinet." 
 
 Second Lady: "Oh, that would be more than 
 one could hope for." 
 
 First Lady (whose humanitarianism seems to have 
 been poisoned by party politics, but is trying to pre- 
 vent a Reign of Terror in England): "Surely you 
 would except John Burns?" 
 
 Third Lady: "Perhaps I should. I sometimes 
 think that he has really repented, and that now 
 his face is set toward the light." 
 
 At that moment Ruth turned and caught my 
 [ 189 1
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 eye. She followed me out of the room and, 
 though choking with laughter, said: "I would 
 give a good deal if you had not overheard that 
 conversation!" 
 
 "Wouldn't have missed it for worlds," I re- 
 plied. "I have another picture to hang beside it, 
 and I shall call them 'Church and State!'" 
 
 XXXII 
 
 THE CHAPLAIN TO THE QUEEN 
 
 OUR journey led us now to Chester, whence 
 we started on a little trip through Northern 
 Wales. I was not very keen for it, for I feared 
 it might prove too "post-cardy !" But it did 
 not. 
 
 If your memory fails you, you may turn again 
 to your "Baedeker," for I do not intend to bore 
 you with descriptions of scenery. 
 
 At Betts-y-Coed we stopped at the "Waterloo," 
 and took as many photos of the brawling brook 
 as Mr. Pecksniff's pupils made elevations of Salis- 
 bury Cathedral. 
 
 But far more interesting to me than any land- 
 scape was the porter of the hotel John. You 
 recall Oliver Wendell Holmes's description of the 
 "Two Voices" if not look it up in your "Auto- 
 [ 190]
 
 THE CHAPLAIN TO THE QUEEN 
 
 crat," mine is in the trunk at Chester. One of 
 these voices, I remember, was that of a German 
 chambermaid in a hotel at Buffalo, and the other 
 I have forgotten where ! Well, John's voice is 
 more beautiful than theirs, I am sure. Indeed, I 
 think it the most beautiful speaking voice I have 
 ever heard as more musical than the English 
 voice than that is more musical than the Phila- 
 delphian's at which you never tire of girding! 
 The timbre is exquisite, and there is a caressing 
 quality in it which belongs to the Celt alone. 
 Motorists, dusty, tired, hungry, and cross drove 
 up hour after hour, and John's greeting was as 
 comfortable as a warm bath. And when I say 
 bath, I mean a wallow in a tub and not a wash 
 in a tin basin but I forgot. Ruth asked me 
 not to mention "baths" again until we passed 
 Sandy Hook. I do not know why. Perhaps 
 you do? 
 
 What is it makes the Celt so much more lovable 
 than the Saxon ? Some of their qualities are not 
 sterling. Some of them are not quite honest in 
 small matters, and their standard of truth is not 
 ours. They used to tell us in the seminary that 
 the elder brother in the parable stood for the 
 Jew, and the prodigal for the Gentile. Why does 
 not some man who does not wish to be a bishop 
 or to go to the General Convention, say that they 
 are types of the Saxon and the Celt ? It has the 
 [ 191]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 advantage of a "modern instance," and is prob- 
 ably quite as true ! 
 
 At any rate, it is the Celt who is lovable, though 
 the Saxon may be admirable. Well, perhaps that 
 means that the Saxon has arrived, and that the 
 future belongs to the Celt. This, at any rate, is 
 my feeling as I think of the Welsh. Perhaps my 
 feelings may undergo a change when I cross to 
 Ireland ! In the meantime, I am sure the Welsh- 
 man would object to be called a prodigal, as who 
 would not ! 
 
 The average American returns from England 
 declaring that the climate is wretched, and I have 
 often shared that opinion myself, but, after all, 
 where can one enjoy the twilight as in the British 
 Isles ? We do not know what it means, at home. 
 But here from eight to ten in the evening is the 
 most enjoyable part of the day. We were sitting 
 in the garden of the hotel in this pleasant time, 
 I smoking and Ruth thinking I wonder of what ? 
 There was a far-away look in her eyes when a 
 man came out of the dining-room and settled 
 himself in one of the basket chairs on the lawn, 
 not far from us and, drawing out a dainty case, 
 lit a small cigar, whose aroma floated to us. 
 I glanced at him indifferently, but when Ruth 
 said, "That is an interesting face," looked at 
 him more carefully. He was evidently a clergy- 
 man, but his dress was not that of the conventional 
 [ 192 ]
 
 THE CHAPLAIN TO THE QUEEN 
 
 parson, with the rigid "dog collar." He wore a 
 waistcoat which buttoned to the throat, but was 
 open enough to show a lawn cravat and a shirt of 
 fine linen, which softened his somewhat formal 
 costume. He looked not unlike the portrait of 
 Dean Stanley which hangs in your study, and evi- 
 dently belonged to the same period or a little 
 later. His face showed breeding and was one that 
 would attract attention. It lacked, however, the 
 high intelligence of Stanley, being rather weak 
 indeed almost self-indulgent in a refined way. 
 Suddenly I recalled him. It was the Rev. Henry 
 Waitland, rector of a fashionable West-end 
 "Chapel of Ease." I had last seen him when I 
 was in college, at one of John Ropes's Sunday 
 dinners. I remembered that I had been told that 
 he was a well-known man in London, a friend of 
 Ellen Terry's and other celebrities. Indeed, he 
 had the reputation of being more interested in 
 the drama than in divinity ! I thought it might 
 please Ruth to meet him, so I strolled over and 
 introduced myself, reminding him of our last 
 meeting. 
 
 He was polite, but not enthusiastic. Indeed I 
 was reminded of the remark of the "con man" 
 on the steamer! However, when he caught a 
 glimpse of Ruth, and learned she was my wife, 
 he seemed to think better of us, and asked to be 
 presented. 
 
 [ 193 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 When we had talked a little about Boston and 
 he found that Ruth knew the right people, he 
 thawed out and began to talk about London and 
 the distinguished people he had known. It was 
 most interesting to hear about the people one 
 knew from books and get the impressions of an 
 eye-witness. 
 
 Ruth asked him what a "Queen's chaplain" 
 was? He laughed and said it was a man who 
 had to leave his own congregation and go to 
 Windsor to preach before the Queen whenever 
 "commanded." Ruth remarked that she should 
 think that would be a bore. But he said it was 
 an honor. This sounded like a snub, but was 
 evidently intended only as a statement of fact. 
 
 "Still," he added, "I will not deny that it is 
 sometimes inconvenient. For instance: A few 
 years ago I was summoned to preach the Easter 
 sermon before her Majesty, and would much have 
 preferred to stop at home for that day. How- 
 ever, I went to Windsor, and found that my old 
 friend Ponsonby was to take the service, but as 
 I was to preach he suggested that I read the 
 gospel. But imagine my surprise when, instead 
 of saying the collect for Easter, he said a collect 
 which for the life of me I could not recall, or 
 rather could not tell to what Sunday it belonged ! 
 You may imagine my embarrassment ! I said to 
 myself: 'Whatever shall I do? Shall I read the 
 [194]
 
 THE CHAPLAIN TO THE QUEEN 
 
 Gospel for Easter, or shall I match Ponsonby?' 
 It seemed the decent thing to stand by him, but 
 then I said to myself, 'How can I match Pon- 
 sonby, when I don't know this minute what 
 Epistle he is now reading?' And then I said to 
 myself: 'You have nothing to do with Ponsonby. 
 You have been commanded to preach before her 
 Majesty on Easter Day, and your business is to 
 read the service appointed for that day!' And 
 that is what I did. 
 
 "After service the Queen sent for me, and after 
 saying a few pleasant things, added : ' I was both 
 astonished and annoyed that Mr. Ponsonby 
 should not have read the Collect for Easter.' I 
 didn't want to be unfair to Ponsonby, but I said: 
 'You may imagine my feeling, ma'am, when I 
 heard a collect for I did not know what day, and 
 though I said to myself "Shall I match Pon- 
 sonby?" I did think it best to read the collect 
 appointed for the day.' 
 
 ; 'You were quite right,' said the Queen, 'and 
 I shah* tell Mr. Ponsonby how much I dislike any 
 deviation from the appointed service.' 
 
 "So you see," he added, "that honors have 
 their burdens." 
 
 Now I ask you, has Trollope any clerical story 
 to equal this? 
 
 [195]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 XXXIII 
 
 THE RETIRED COLONEL 
 
 WE took many lovely drives, using Betts-y- 
 Coed as a centre, but as you have done it all on 
 foot you will not want to listen to my raptures, 
 so I will again tell you about the people I met. 
 
 I had not cared to go to Llandidno, for it is the 
 paradise of trippers, but John the porter told me 
 we ought not to miss it, so thither we went. The 
 sands were a sight never to be forgotten. Hun- 
 dreds of children were on the beach, the little 
 ones laboriously building houses, forts, and even 
 towns all of which the lapping sea soon licked 
 up. "Vanity of vanities," saith the preacher: 
 But the preacher knew nothing of children, else 
 he would have said they were the only wise ones. 
 Their play is not "vanity," it is when men lose 
 the sense of proportion, and act as if things "seen" 
 are eternal, that vanity eats out the heart. These 
 children were wise. They knew their labor was 
 but for a moment, and therefore did not weep, 
 but rather laughed, when the tongue of the sea 
 touched their work and it was gone. However 
 you do not care to hear me moralize ! 
 
 Surely no more beautiful children can be found 
 in the world than these English children. They 
 may lack the vivacity of French and American 
 [ 196]
 
 THE RETIRED COLONEL 
 
 children, but, on the other hand, they are free 
 from the self-consciousness of the one and the 
 febrile nervousness of the other. They are su- 
 perb little animals, which is what a child ought to 
 be. Those that I saw on the sands and I sup- 
 pose it is generally true had the supreme animal 
 virtue, which is obedience. The babies obeyed 
 the nurses, the "middle-sized bears" obeyed the 
 "big bears," and all obeyed not as with us the 
 mother, but the father. For it is the man who 
 is the supreme court in England. One never hears 
 the familiar "Well, ask your mother!" And 
 the result is a well-organized feudal society, in 
 which there is far more happiness than in many 
 of the so-called democratic, but really anarchistic, 
 families that you and I could name. In short, 
 the family is a microcosm of that larger life in 
 which, some day, the children are to take their 
 places. 
 
 When I imparted these reflections to Ruth, she 
 said: "You have missed the best." 
 
 "And what might that be, Madame Philos- 
 opher?" said I. 
 
 "If you had not set up to be a philosopher, 
 yourself," she pertly remarked, "you would have 
 seen the obvious, which so many philosophers 
 overlook. It is the hair and the eyes of these 
 children that makes them so beautiful. Did you 
 ever see such hair as these girls have ? It floats 
 [197]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 in the air like the corn-silk on an Indiana farm ! 
 And look at the eyes of the boys; they are not 
 blue as we count blueness, but real blue, like the 
 delphinium. I wonder if the English reputation 
 for truthfulness above other nations is not in 
 part due to the prevailing blue eyes ? Who could 
 doubt anything that angel were to say?" 
 
 I looked at the "angel" in question, and laughed 
 heartily at this attempt to imitate Taine ! 
 
 The people on the sands were not trippers. 
 Those hung round the shops and the booths, where, 
 for a penny, one might take a shy at "Aunt Sally." 
 Or, if they came to the sands at ah 1 , gathered in 
 shrieking groups about the "niggers," men 
 blacked up, indeed, but whose yellow hair and 
 blue eyes made disguise as impossible as did their 
 cockney accent. Why is it, I wonder, that all 
 people think they can imitate negroes? I once 
 saw a minstrel show given by Chinamen, and, I 
 assure you, it was scarcely more grotesque than 
 these "niggers" on the sands. 
 
 No, my friends were not such as these. They 
 were what Matthew Arnold, in his supercilious 
 way, called "Philistines." But I miss my guess 
 if, should a great crisis arise, the "culture" of 
 England will not be saved, if saved it is, by these 
 same Philistines, even as David of old was saved 
 by the bearers of the name from the tyranny of 
 Saul! "The submerged tenth," in England, as 
 [ 198]
 
 THE RETIRED COLONEL 
 
 elsewhere, is green or rotten; the upper classes 
 are over-ripe; it is the great middle class, without 
 charm or culture, which will show what England's 
 heart is, when the great struggle comes. 
 
 "But," you will say, "what struggle? Only 
 a little while ago you were writing that you 
 thought all this talk about war was nothing but 
 what you elegantly called 'fluff,' and now you 
 write as if an ultimatum from one of the great 
 powers was imminent. What has happened to 
 change your tune?" 
 
 In reply, I can only say "Nothing tangible." 
 But there is a tension which one comes gradually 
 to feel. For instance, the German contempt and 
 hatred of England is too well known to call for 
 comment. It is like what my father told me our 
 Southern friends felt about the North in the days 
 before the outbreak of war, and which he felt 
 had as much to do with secession as did slavery. 
 But few people with us appreciate the feeling in 
 England toward the Germans. Business men are 
 exasperated by Germany's expanding trade 
 especially in regard to trade-marks the states- 
 men, even of the Liberal school, are anxious about 
 the naval activities across the North Sea. But 
 more significant still is the fact that some of the 
 "best-selling" novels and most popular plays are 
 picturing the invasion of England by Germany. 
 This, of course, appeals most strongly to the 
 [ 199]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 Jingoes, but even such a respectable if semi- 
 chauvinistic paper as the Spectator is solemnly 
 discussing an "amicable" division of the "back- 
 ward" world including Brazil, to which, said the 
 writer it was a leading article "we should have 
 no objection." Shades of Monroe! And yet, 
 while they do not seem to think we should have 
 any voice in the partition of the world, they are 
 apparently convinced that we must feel about the 
 mother country as Canada does. The truth is, 
 the people of England have never recognized the 
 independence of the United States ! That is to 
 say, they cannot believe that we do not regret the 
 Revolution as sincerely as they now do, and that, 
 were it possible, we should be glad to enter into 
 a closer political association with them. In other 
 words, while the fact of our independence must 
 be assumed by the two governments, our senti- 
 ments must be colonial ! 
 
 A few days ago I was talking with a retired 
 colonel, who is convinced that war may break 
 out any day, and he said to me: "I suppose if 
 the old country had her back to the wall you 
 would come to her help?" 
 
 I answered: "I do not think you could count 
 on it. It would depend a good deal on the cause 
 of the quarrel. There was a strong feeling against 
 England during the Boer War, and there are 
 thousands of Americans of pure British stock 
 [ 200 ]
 
 THE RETIRED COLONEL 
 
 who do not think that Ireland has had a fair 
 deal." 
 
 He looked at me for a moment as if he could 
 not credit his ears, and then simply said: "My 
 G d!" 
 
 Had I known how deeply it would wound him, 
 I would not have spoken. Certainly the thought 
 of war between us and England is too horrible to 
 put into words, and I dare say if there were a 
 possibility of England's being crushed by a world 
 power the superficial differences would be swept 
 away like the sand-forts of the children, and deep 
 would call to deep as it was recognized that the 
 two peoples share a common ideal, and that it 
 must be defended for the good of mankind. You 
 know how I feel about war, yet I confess that 
 should there be a righteous war in which Eng- 
 land and America fought side by side it might 
 not only remove the petty misunderstandings of 
 the past but also lead to an abiding peace in the 
 future. If only England could see that the Irish 
 question is an American question ! 
 
 Meanwhile, I wish the Times would let Germany 
 alone, and English travellers let us alone for a 
 while! 
 
 Dr. Weir Mitchell once told me that he had a 
 patient a policeman from somewhere in the Jer- 
 seys Newark, I think who was a victim of an 
 idee fixe. He asked him if he had ever been 
 [ 201 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 bitten by a mosquito? The man, with a wan 
 smile, said: "What do you think?" 
 
 "Very good," said Dr. Mitchell. "When you 
 let it alone it soon ceased to trouble you, but if 
 you scratched it it festered, and you had a hard 
 time. You must quit scratching this thought!" 
 
 But what was the poor fellow to do if every 
 passer-by scratched it? 
 
 XXXIV 
 
 A PROBLEM IN CASUISTRY 
 
 WELL, we now have the Celt with a vengeance ! 
 Cork is the most detestable place I ever saw. 
 Such drunkenness, filth, and squalor I never 
 dreamed possible outside of China! Ardent 
 Home Ruler as I am, I can now understand the 
 Ulsterman's fear and hatred of a rule that might 
 turn Belfast into such a dunghill ! You will say, 
 and no doubt you are right, that this shows a 
 lack of faith, and that thrift drives out filth. But 
 sometimes it works the other way. At any rate, 
 one cannot wonder that the Ulsterman should 
 think that not faith like a mustard-seed, but like 
 a mountain, would be needed to enable a man to 
 believe that Protestant Ulster can be benefited by 
 an alliance with Dublin and Cork. However, 
 [ 202 ]
 
 A PROBLEM IN CASUISTRY 
 
 this is supposed to be the chronicle of a car and 
 not a new treatise on the Irish Question. 
 
 When we were at Chester I bought a "slicker," 
 which the salesman called a "shirt," and by that 
 name it has gone between us ever since. As you 
 may fancy, it has proved a useful article when I 
 tell you that here, "The rain it raineth every 
 day," not all the time, of course, but when one 
 least expects it. The very sun is wet ! But when 
 it shines the landscape has the same sweet expres- 
 sion that one sees on the face of a dear little girl 
 who has shed a few tears and is again smiling. 
 
 The morning we left Killarney it was not rain- 
 ing like that, but coming down in torrents. In- 
 deed we were the only travellers who faced the 
 storm. A good part of the company assembled 
 on the porch to see us start. The hood was up, 
 so that Ruth could not see me as I went to the 
 rear of the motor to see if the chains were tight, 
 but, ever solicitous of my welfare, she called out 
 in an agonized tone: "John, have you got your 
 shirt on?" 
 
 To which I replied: "I am not sure. I slept 
 in it, but whether I put it on again after my bath, 
 I can't remember !" 
 
 You never saw a crowd melt away so suddenly ! 
 
 One lady ejaculated "Fancy!" and one man 
 
 laughed and waited to wave us farewell. He, I 
 
 had been told, was a duke. I do not know if it 
 
 [ 203 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 were true. In Ireland one is never quite sure 
 what is true. And, what is worse, or better, if 
 you feel that way, I am unable to tell a duke from 
 the commonalty ! 
 
 Ruth says there is nothing funny in this story, 
 and that I acted as if I lived on Second Avenue ! 
 Well, I can't tell. It made a duke laugh if he 
 were a duke and that is no small feat ! 
 
 The atmosphere soon showed the Celtic tem- 
 perament. Or is it the other way about, and is 
 temperament a natural reaction to atmosphere? 
 At any rate the sun soon shone fair and warm, 
 and the conditions for motoring would have been 
 perfect had the roads been better. Unfortunately 
 not only is the surface bad, but the roads are 
 very narrow a new danger of which we were 
 soon to have experience. 
 
 We were running along at a fair gait Ruth 
 says racing! when suddenly, at a turn in the 
 road I found myself under the feet of a team of 
 horses, which loomed up like elephants. It was 
 too late to turn, so I acted automatically, cer- 
 tainly without conscious volition, and threw the 
 car into a hedge. It was a stout one, and the 
 car rose like a hunter and came to rest on the 
 top, which held it! No, this is not an "Irish'* 
 story, only a story of Ireland. 
 
 A gentleman was walking across the field and 
 ran to our assistance. Gallant Irishman that he 
 [ 204 ]
 
 A PROBLEM IN CASUISTRY 
 
 was he asked no questions, but assisted Ruth to 
 descend. She was deathly pale, but, I am proud 
 to say, neither screamed nor indeed spoke. Some 
 laborers gathered and helped to drag the car back 
 onto the road, none the worse, so far as I could 
 see, for its strange adventure, save for a few 
 scratches. 
 
 I now turned my attention to the driver of the 
 cart, who all this time had remained upon his 
 high perch, gazing at our efforts like a god upon 
 Olympus, "careless of mankind." 
 
 "My friend," I began, in as quiet a voice as I 
 could control, "that came near being a nasty 
 accident." 
 
 "It did that, your honor." 
 
 "You came near having both those horses 
 killed." 
 
 "That would have cost your honor a pretty 
 penny, for the likes of them can't be found in the 
 county. Sure the gentleman standin' there will 
 tell you they took the first prize at Dublin not a 
 year ago." 
 
 "Well, you are pretty cool about it. The lady 
 might have been killed, too." 
 
 "That would have been a pity, for it's a sweet 
 face she has. I was wondering she'd risk her life 
 with you." 
 
 "Risk her life with me! Why, you impudent 
 fellow," I cried, being by this time thoroughly 
 [ 205 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 angry, " the fault was all yours. You were on the 
 wrong side of the road." 
 
 "Well, as for that, your honor," replied this 
 incorrigible fellow, "this road's that narrer, it 
 ain't properly got two sides!" 
 
 I could think of nothing better to say than 
 that I would report him to the police in the next 
 town, and took the name of the owner of the cart, 
 which was painted in large letters on the side. I 
 did stop and report the matter to a policeman 
 who was directing the traffic in a town near by. 
 He was sympathetic, and said: 
 
 "I know that man well, and the next time he 
 comes to market, I will represent him to himself!" 
 This was all the satisfaction I got. Indeed, I 
 suspect it is as much as could be expected in Ire- 
 land. After all, it was worth something to in- 
 crease one's stock of phrases. To represent a 
 man to himself is no small feat ! 
 
 A little later I got from Ruth a new light on 
 Irish veracity or rather, lack of it. She says it 
 arises from no evil motive, but, on the contrary, 
 from kindness of heart ! This, she added, makes 
 it different from any other lying in the world. 
 This moral, or immoral, dictum was called forth 
 by the following: I had lost my way no un- 
 common experience and stopped at a hovel 
 to inquire the way. In answer to my call a 
 veritable giant appeared. I asked if the road 
 [ 206 ]
 
 A PROBLEM IN CASUISTRY 
 
 we were on would bring us to Blarney Castle? 
 After a moment's hesitation he said it would. 
 Not feeling sure he knew, I asked again if there 
 was any turning I must take? But he said: 
 "No, keep straighten this road and it will bring 
 you there." 
 
 There was something in the man's face that 
 led me to think he could not be an ordinary 
 peasant, and therefore I asked him if he lived 
 there ? 
 
 "I was born here," he replied, rather defiantly. 
 "But I've been living in Australia for the past 
 seven years, and have now come back to see the 
 old people." 
 
 I said to myself that, unlike most Irishmen 
 when they migrate, he had not bettered himself. 
 As if he read my thought, as perhaps he did, he 
 added, with a glance at his old and torn clothing: 
 "I've better clothes than these, but why would 
 I be wearing them to shame the neighbors !" 
 
 Could Sir Philip Sidney have said anything 
 finer ? 
 
 "Well," I said, as I started the motor, "when 
 I next come here you'll have Home Rule !" 
 
 At that the man's whole face lighted up, and 
 he cried: "Glory be to God, ye're a prophet! 
 What's your name?" When I answered "Dob- 
 son," without a moment's hesitation he exclaimed: 
 "I've heerd of you!" 
 
 [ 207 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 I laughed and said: "I see you've kissed the 
 Blarney stone yourself." 
 
 But there was no jocular reply. The thing was 
 too serious for that. The man was inflamed. 
 Why cannot the English appreciate that the love 
 of nationality is inextinguishable ? 
 
 The rain began again and fell persistently and we 
 slithered on our way. It's a long lane that has no 
 turning, and this was one, though it did nothing but 
 turn. Always it was leading to the right, though I 
 felt it should lead straight on or else bear to the left. 
 
 Finally we came to a highway that somehow 
 looked familiar, and before we had gone a mile 
 farther, I found that we were where we had started 
 from an hour before ! There was the wretched 
 hovel where the giant dwelt, and a vigorous shout 
 brought him to the door. 
 
 "See here, my friend," I cried, "what did you 
 mean by telling me that that road would lead to 
 Blarney Castle? I have kept on it all the time, 
 and it has brought me back here." 
 
 "Now ain't that a shame? I never thought 
 such a thing would happen to you. Now I'll tell 
 you God's truth. You was clean out of your way 
 when you was last here. You ought to have left 
 the road you are on this minute as much as seven 
 miles back. And when you asked me if yonder 
 road would lead to Blarney Castle, and I looked 
 at the lovely face of the lady, and she lookin' 
 [ 208 ]
 
 A PROBLEM IN CASUISTRY 
 
 tired, too, I hadn't the heart to tell you you must 
 turn back. I thought when you got on this road 
 again ye would have turned the other way, and 
 not have lost so much anyway. And how was I 
 to know you wouldn't meet a man who wouldn't 
 mind telling bad news, and who would set you on 
 your way ? But as for me, I hadn't the heart to 
 doit!" 
 
 And that's what Ruth calls "lying from a kind 
 heart!" A cynic might suggest that the "lovely 
 lady" had something to do with this charitable 
 if immoral dictum I 
 
 Well, there was nothing to do but to turn back 
 and drive for the third time over a road I had 
 come to hate. About seven miles back we found 
 the proper turning, and, after much splashing, 
 came to Blarney Castle. 
 
 I did not kiss the stone, for I had no desire to 
 get a water-spout down the back of my neck by 
 leaning out of the window as you may remem- 
 ber one must do to perform the feat. Indeed I 
 thought there was force in Lord Chesterfield's 
 advice to his son, when he said he intended to go 
 down into a coal-mine: 
 
 "What for?" asked the noble lord. 
 
 "Why, to say I have been down one!" 
 
 "Why not say it?" he replied. 
 
 Indeed I am inclined to think that is what a 
 good many people have done at Blarney ! 
 [ 209 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 XXXV 
 
 A DAY OF TROUBLE AND DISTRESS 
 
 WHETHER because I did not kiss the Blarney 
 stone, or for some other reason, the next day was 
 one of trouble and distress. Indeed, it came 
 near being our last day. For several days I had 
 noticed that the self-starter was not working well. 
 Several times it had failed to catch and required 
 a good deal of coaxing. I could not understand 
 it, for it was not yet three weeks since I had filled 
 the batteries with water, which, I had been told, 
 was all that was necessary to insure its function- 
 ing. I thought that possibly the damp weather 
 had affected the electrical current, and could only 
 hope that with clearing weather there would be 
 no further trouble. But at the next stop the 
 little engine refused to act at all, and I had to 
 unpack the handle and crank, which is an exer- 
 cise good for neither the back nor the temper ! 
 
 A little later we came to a road which branched 
 from the highway to the left, and Ruth, who had 
 charge of the map, called out: "To the right." 
 I leave it to you: would not you have thought 
 that meant to turn somewhere ? If not, why not 
 say: "Keep straight on." At any rate, I turned 
 sharp into the left-hand road, only to find that 
 we were in a cul-de-sac. Turning was impossible, 
 [ 210]
 
 A DAY OF TROUBLE AND DISTRESS 
 
 so I kept on, wondering why Ruth, who must 
 have known how tired I was, should have driven 
 me into such a place ! 
 
 Finally, we came to a gate, and as I did not dare 
 leave the car lest it stall we were on an incline 
 which tipped the car back and made cranking 
 difficult I asked Ruth to get out and open the 
 gate. I saw that just beyond there was a place 
 where, with great care the car might be turned, 
 but where the chances of stalling were great. 
 Still, I thought, if I could keep the car going I 
 might manage it. I called to Ruth not to get 
 in and began slowly to turn. The road was just 
 the width of the wheels, with a bog on each side. 
 Looking up I saw a huge dog lying in the way. 
 It was as ugly a looking brute as one would 
 wish to see, even if it was chained. I blew the 
 horn. It did not stir. Then, to my horror, I 
 saw Ruth, who is more afraid of a dog than I am 
 of a cat, which is saying a good deal, seize the 
 brute by the tail and begin to drag it out of the 
 way ! I [turned sick with terror, and, under the 
 nervous strain, did what I have not done since 
 I was in college swore. "Damnation," I cried, 
 "turn that dog loose!" And Ruth, equally ex- 
 cited, answered in a fine frenzy: "I would pull 
 him if he were a mad bull !" 
 
 Fortunately, the dog made no resistance, ana 
 the car was safely turned. Had it stalled, I do 
 [211]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 not know what I should have done, for I was 
 "all in." 
 
 One would have thought this was enough for 
 one day, but worse was yet to come. About an 
 hour later we came to a railway crossing. All 
 the level crossings are not on Long Island ! There 
 are several in Ireland ! This one was kept by a 
 woman, with, I think, the saddest face I ever saw. 
 She opened the gate and thanked me for the six- 
 pence I handed her, but neither smiled nor spoke. 
 
 We passed onto the track and, probably because 
 I was so tired and was driving carelessly, we 
 stalled. I was about to get out to crank when 
 the woman appeared at my side, and said, so 
 quietly that Ruth could not hear: "It would 
 maybe be better if the lady got out. The Dublin 
 express is due round the curve at any minute!" 
 Could anything have been more considerate? 
 Had she screamed, I fear I should have been so 
 unnerved that we should have been lost. 
 
 At that moment the engine of the approaching 
 train gave a shriek and I could feel the rails vi- 
 brate. My blood turned to water. We were 
 pinned under the hood, and escape seemed im- 
 possible. Almost, without knowing what I was 
 doing, I stamped on the pedal of the self-starter, 
 and I say it reverently by the mercy of God 
 it caught, and we slid off the track as the express 
 thundered by ! 
 
 [212]
 
 A DAY OF TROUBLE AND DISTRESS 
 
 The rushing wind nearly blew us out of the 
 motor. There could not have been a yard be- 
 tween us and the train. I looked at Ruth. She 
 was as pale as death, but spoke no word. You 
 may be sure I did not forget a thank-offering to 
 the poor gatekeeper, who was white with terror. 
 
 As we went on our way I said to myself: "If 
 ever we reach an inn in safety, I will give the car 
 away. The impudent driver who said he won- 
 dered Ruth would risk her life with me was right." 
 
 Rut it was long before we reached an inn, for 
 I lost my way! This time it was not Ruth's 
 fault. She was probably so shaken that she 
 could not see the way; at any rate she gave me 
 the wrong road, and we wandered over the hills 
 until we were nearly distracted. When we 
 reached Ross late at night you may believe neither 
 of us had much appetite for the greasy supper 
 which was set before us. 
 
 Suddenly, without a word of warning, Ruth 
 put her head down on the table and burst into 
 tears I It was so unlike her that I was dreadfully 
 frightened. I got her to bed and put a hot-water 
 bottle to her feet, and sat by her till she was 
 more quiet, and then went outside in the rain to 
 smoke a pipe, and "represent myself to myself." 
 When I had flagellated myself for all my ill temper, 
 and returned thanks for the mercies of the day, 
 I too went to bed, but not to sleep for many an 
 [213]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 hour. When at last I did fall asleep, it was only 
 to dream of a huge dog, rushing down a railroad 
 track, whistling like a locomotive and breathing 
 streams of fire from his mouth. It doesn't take 
 a Freud to interpret that dream I 
 
 In spite of my troubled night, or perhaps in 
 consequence of it, I woke early. The sun was 
 streaming into my bedroom as if to say: "Slug- 
 gard, arise. I was only fooling yesterday when 
 I pretended that Ireland had a rainy climate. 
 To-day is like Italy, and even the dirty streets of 
 Ross are beautiful!" 
 
 My mind was quickly made up, and as soon as 
 I was dressed I made my way to the station and 
 found that I could ship the motor to Dublin on 
 a flat car and that it would be delivered to us 
 there the next morning. So I returned to the 
 garage and drove to the station, feeling not un- 
 like Tartarin, when he sold the chameau for a 
 ticket in the diligence, which, Daudet remarks, 
 is not a bad use to make of a camel ! 
 
 Ruth was more relieved, I am sure, than she 
 cared to show, when she learned that she might 
 have a quiet morning in bed and take the train 
 for Dublin in the afternoon. 
 
 As we entered the dining-room of the Shel- 
 
 burne that evening, whom should we meet but 
 
 the Hodges? This was a joy to Ruth, who, I 
 
 knew, would find rest in telling her story to her 
 
 [214]
 
 A DAY OF TROUBLE AND DISTRESS 
 
 sympathetic friend Anne, and a satisfaction to 
 me, for I knew there was nothing about motors 
 hid from her husband, the professor. Indeed, it 
 was he who had advised me to buy a Frontenac, 
 though he himself is "a man who owns one," and 
 was driving his big Packard, with comfort and 
 pride. 
 
 When he had recovered from his hilarity over 
 my experiences, he said that next morning we 
 would look over the car and find the trouble with 
 the self-starter, while Ruth and Anne were shop- 
 ping for linen and laces. 
 
 The car was ready for us when we arrived at 
 the Goods station, next morning, and we drove 
 to the garage for a consultation. 
 
 There seemed to be nothing wrong with the 
 engine, nor with the connections, but, when we 
 examined the batteries, we found that they had 
 run down! I explained that I had filled them 
 myself not two weeks ago, but when the professor 
 saw that I had failed to note the date on the little 
 card for that purpose, it was evident that he was 
 sceptical. Well, there was nothing more to do 
 but to have the batteries charged again, and as 
 the man of the garage seemed to be a capable 
 fellow, I hoped I should have no more trouble. 
 
 We spent two pleasant days in Dublin, saw 
 where Sir Frederick Cavendish had been murdered 
 this is not mentioned as one of the pleasures! 
 [215]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 And then went to the cathedral and thought of 
 the savage old dean whom Thackeray has so 
 wonderfully described perhaps the best of all 
 his portraits then to Trinity College* where I 
 confess, Charles O'Malley was more real to me 
 than some of the scholars who have made illus- 
 trious that ancient seat of learning. 
 
 The professor is not "sound" on Irish politics, 
 but when we went to Dublin Castle and saw 
 some of the young men whom England sends to 
 govern the most imaginative people on earth, 
 even he had to admit that things might be im- 
 proved I Supercilious good manners in an atmos- 
 phere of boredom is not the best means for im- 
 pressing the Irish with the intelligence, nor even 
 with the justice, of England. 
 
 The weather was again "set fair," so that we 
 left Ireland in a blaze of glory. The Hodges were 
 on their way to the Giant's Causeway. But 
 when I told them they would find the roads bad, 
 the professor remarked that no doubt all the roads 
 were bad in the south, and that when Home Rule 
 went into effect those of the north would be 
 equally so, but that while the Union Jack floated 
 over Belfast, and the Protestant religion was still 
 a power, he had no fear ! So we parted perhaps 
 it was tune ! 
 
 We crossed to Hollyhead, and, the car running 
 like a witch, it was not long before we reached 
 [216]
 
 'ONE EVERY MINUTE" 
 
 the Waterloo, where John greeted us as if he had 
 not thought of any one else since we were last 
 there ! 
 
 XXXVI 
 
 "ONE EVERY MINUTE" 
 
 THE self-starter is again out of order ! I found 
 it cheaper to pay an odd man a shilling each time 
 I wanted to crank than to break my back, which 
 is what I did on our way to Barchester. 
 
 When we reached the hotel there, how different 
 was our reception from that which John had ac- 
 corded us at the Waterloo! The strictly polite 
 and equally indifferent young woman at the desk 
 seemed to think it rather a bore to have us return 
 to them ! I hear there is an old coaching inn in 
 that town where they receive one as a friend, and 
 if I ever return to that ancient city I shall go there. 
 
 I took the car to the garage and asked the man 
 in charge if he thought he could find the trouble. 
 He said the battery was run down! Instead of 
 saying what I thought, I politely remarked that 
 that could hardly be as I had it charged less than 
 a week before in Dublin. 
 
 "Dublin!" he exclaimed contemptuously. 
 
 Well, there was nothing to do but to have it 
 charged again you know they do not perform 
 [ 217 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 this service for nothing and write to the Fron- 
 tenac Co., in London, telling them what I thought 
 of this invention which was to "revolutionize 
 motoring." 
 
 Their answer was what was to have been ex- 
 pected. "Mine was the first complaint they had 
 received. Of course it was impossible to express 
 an opinion as to the cause of the trouble till they 
 had examined the car in their own shops in Lon- 
 don, etc." There was a postscript, in which the 
 writer suggested that I might have misused the 
 car and ruined the mechanism, in which case it 
 would be necessary to install a new generator at 
 a cost of about three hundred dollars ! 
 
 This struck me as humorous, for by this time 
 I was convinced that the chauffeur in London 
 who had said that all changes on American 
 cars were not improvements was right. How I 
 wished I had one of those well-balanced foreign 
 cars, which start with a half turn of the handle, 
 instead of one of these new-fangled "Yankee 
 notions," which promise so much and are out of 
 order half the time ! 
 
 I was rather low in my mind as we sat in the 
 garden after dinner and discussed our plans. 
 Should we go on to Scotland, as we had intended, 
 or should we sell the car for what it would bring, 
 and buy an English one, or should we give up 
 and go on the Continent and travel like other folk ? 
 [218]
 
 "ONE EVERY MINUTE" 
 
 Ruth cried out at the thought of selling the 
 car: "Why, I love it," she cried, and could not 
 bear the thought of giving it up. "Surely when 
 the agent sees it he will be able to find the trouble 
 it really may be something very simple, after 
 all." 
 
 "If it were simple," I gloomily replied, "the 
 professor would have discovered it. He knows 
 all there is to know about a motor." 
 
 "No," she answered, "it does not follow. You 
 know how often you have said the great special- 
 ists are so anxious to find some abnormal disease 
 that they often overlook the most common ex- 
 planation. It may be the same now." 
 
 Well, there was nothing that could be done till 
 we reached London, and thither we planned to 
 start the next morning, or as soon as the car was 
 charged. 
 
 To cheer me up Ruth now told me of her con- 
 versation in this same garden with the typical 
 John Bull, of which she said she had written you. 
 While I was feebly smiling I was still too un- 
 happy to laugh a telegram was brought me 
 which had Ruth's name in full, so it evidently 
 was intended I should not open it even hi her 
 absence. 
 
 When she had read it, she said: "What do you 
 think? This is from Maud, saying she will be 
 here in the morning, and asking me to wait for 
 [219]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 her as she wishes to see me on a matter of im- 
 portance. Would you mind starting without us 
 and let me follow by train and meet you in 
 London?" 
 
 I have my faults as a husband, but I believe 
 Ruth will testify that I am not one of those who 
 insist upon knowing what their wives have in 
 mind when they are not telling "the whole truth" ! 
 So I said: "Of course not." And so it was 
 arranged. 
 
 I did ask if she would like me to make a late 
 start so as to be here when her sister arrived. 
 But she said I must not think of it. So then I 
 saw I was to know nothing, and that it would 
 conduce to the greatest happiness of the greatest 
 number if I left as soon as possible. 
 
 Fortunately for me, the battery was not in 
 process of being charged, for the man said he 
 did not know there was any hurry! So I was 
 able to make an early start. I cut across lots and 
 made straight for Banbury, where I stopped at 
 the same inn which had so charmed me on a 
 previous visit, an inn which would have charmed 
 perhaps did charm Dickens. The next day 
 I went again through Oxford, and so to London, 
 entering on the west side, which I had learned 
 was the easiest of the many gates to enter. 
 
 When I reached the garage of the Frontenac 
 Co., the manager listened to my tale of woe 
 [ 220 ]
 
 "X)NE EVERY MINUTE" 
 
 with patience, but, when I said I had bought 
 that particular make of car because I had been 
 assured by the salesman that it was warranted 
 "fool proof," dryly remarked that every war- 
 rant had a limit, and reminded me that one was 
 "born every minute." I could not find a suit- 
 able reply, and so left the car with him, promising 
 to return the next day. 
 
 By way of distraction I went that night to one 
 of the great music-halls, which proved to be a 
 kind of glorified "Keith's." 
 
 Sarah Bernhardt was the attraction, but not 
 to me! There was nothing left, it seemed to 
 me, but the mannerisms of the second empire, 
 and I was glad when she left the stage. Had there 
 been nothing else such as acrobats and per- 
 forming dogs, both of which I delight in it would 
 have been worth the price of admission to see 
 Chevallier alone. He was inimitable. 
 
 It would pay the trustees of a theological semi- 
 nary to import him to give "The Charity Bazaar" 
 before the class in pastoral theology ! It was the 
 most disgusting picture of the sycophantic priestly 
 you ever saw. The people screamed with laugh- 
 ter let us hope because it was a caricature and 
 that they had never seen the original. 
 
 "The Vicar," dressed in the latest cry in "cleri- 
 cals," is supposed to be receiving the guests at 
 a Charity Bazaar. His insolence to the poor, his 
 [221 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 failure to "see" the unholy dissenters, his cringing 
 to the prosperous and his crawling before the 
 duchess, who was the last to arrive, filled me with 
 such shame that I had to shake myself to remember 
 that it was acting, and that I was not called upon 
 to make any remarks ! If ever again you see me 
 worshipping the Golden Calf, please show me 
 this letter! It was a positive relief when the 
 performing dogs came on the stage. 
 
 When I repaired to the garage next day, the 
 manager said he could find nothing wrong with 
 the car. The only trouble was that I had let 
 the battery run down. I sarcastically remarked 
 that he was mistaken; I had not let the battery 
 run down, it had run down of itself, and that that 
 was the best thing it did, that the battery had 
 now been charged three times in two weeks. He 
 said that the local garages were often careless 
 about such matters, but that I should now find 
 that it was all right. When I tried it I found 
 that it functioned well, but as I could not start 
 without Ruth, from whom I had heard nothing 
 since leaving Barchester, I decided to leave the 
 car in his care for another day at least. 
 
 When I took my place at the driver's seat next 
 day, I insisted that the manager should be present 
 before I tested the car again. So he was sent 
 for. I took my place and pressed the button. 
 "Nothing doing." The manager suggested that 
 [ 222 ]
 
 "ONE EVERY MINUTE" 
 
 the damp weather might have affected the cur- 
 rent, and asked me to try again. This I did, with 
 the same result as before. Then the manager 
 tried, but it simply would not work. 
 
 "What do you think is the matter?" I said to 
 the foreman, who, like the manager, is an Amer- 
 ican. 
 
 He laconically replied: "You may search me." 
 
 The manager said nothing and I viciously re- 
 marked: "Perhaps the battery has run down. 
 Some of these garages are so careless !" 
 
 He started to say something, and then evi- 
 dently thought better of it. After a moment he 
 said: "Well, I simply do not understand it. 
 You saw for yourself that it worked perfectly 
 two days ago?" 
 
 "Yes," I said, "it always works 'perfectly' im- 
 mediately after charging, but forty-eight hours 
 later is 'dead.' The truth is the thing is a fail- 
 ure." 
 
 "There will not be an American car on the 
 market next year without one. They all follow 
 the lead of the 'Frontenac,'" he indignantly re- 
 plied. 
 
 "This one will not lead them far," I said, being 
 by this time thoroughly disgusted. 
 
 "Our chief engineer is in Scotland, but is re- 
 turning to-morrow. If you will leave the car 
 here I will have him go over it from headlights to 
 [ 223 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 brake, and he will find the difficulty. You say 
 it always runs till forty-eight hours after charg- 
 ing?" 
 
 "Yes, that has been my experience." 
 
 "How long since you first had this trouble?" 
 
 "About three weeks." 
 
 "Well, there is evidently nothing mechanically 
 wrong. There is probably a leak which we have 
 not been able to locate, and there the current 
 escapes. If he cannot discover the trouble, I 
 will cable to headquarters at home and we will 
 see if you are right, and the invention is a failure. 
 If you have made such a discovery, I should not 
 like to say how many thousands of dollars the 
 company has lost. But you may be sure the 
 'Frontinac' will scrap it quicker than they in- 
 stalled it." 
 
 I had gone to the "Holland," which Ruth scorns, 
 and I must say that, in my frame of mind at the 
 time, I did not find the voices of my fellow 
 countrymen soothing ! A number of people were 
 gathered in the great room under the glass dome, 
 having afternoon tea, when a small boy appeared 
 in the doorway and called out in a shrill voice: 
 "Mummer, pop says can't you get a move on?" 
 Mummer was fat and slow, but she did get the 
 move on, and, what must have been a relief to 
 the rest of the company, her son did the same! 
 I thought with regret of the dear little children 
 [ 224 ]
 
 "ONE EVERY MINUTE" 
 
 at Llandino, and wished we might devote a little 
 more time to voice culture. At that moment a 
 page passed through, saying very quietly so 
 different from our "paging" at home: "Mr. Dob- 
 son, if you please; Mr. Dobson, if you please," 
 and when he came opposite where I was sitting, 
 I did "please," and he handed me a telegram. 
 It was from Ruth, saying that she and her sister 
 were at a small hotel in Kensington, and asking 
 me to join them. But of what Ruth told me 
 when I reached there I will tell you after I have 
 finished the story of the self-starter. 
 
 Three anxious days passed, and I again pre- 
 sented myself at the garage. I noticed that every 
 one who saw me grinned, which did not make me 
 feel better disposed toward the company. When 
 the manager appeared he, too, was siniling I 
 said: "Have you found the trouble?" 
 
 "Oh, yes," he said, "the battery had run 
 down." 
 
 "So I suppose," I replied, with biting sarcasm. 
 "Have you found the leak?" 
 
 "Yes, the engineer found it as soon as we told 
 him that the battery ran down forty-eight hours 
 after charging." 
 
 "Will it work now?" 
 
 "Like new; would you like to try it?" 
 
 "Yes," I replied, but without enthusiasm. 
 But I no sooner pressed the pedal than the cheer- 
 [ 225 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 fill hum which had first attracted me was heard, 
 and the engine began to turn over. 
 
 "How do I know that it will work twenty-four 
 hours from now?" I asked. 
 
 "You don't, but we will guarantee it, with 
 reasonable care." 
 
 "All right," I said. "And now what do I 
 owe you?" 
 
 "That depends upon you," said the cheerful 
 manager. "If you will let us publish this story 
 in our trade journal, and sign your name to it, 
 we will gladly remit the bill." 
 
 "I don't think I understand," said I, with con- 
 siderable dignity. "What story?" 
 
 "The story of the car that was charged five 
 times in two weeks, and ran down each time 
 forty-eight hours later." 
 
 "Well, what of it?" 
 
 "This of it. That I suppose it is the first time 
 in the history of motoring, in which the headlights 
 have been left on for three weeks, burning night and 
 day! " 
 
 Yes, that is what had happened. The weather 
 being continuously rainy in Ireland, I had covered 
 the headlights so snugly that no light seeped 
 through the covers, and then must carelessly 
 have touched the button which lights them, and 
 so had been exhausting the current as fast as it 
 [ 226 ]
 
 ANGLIA OR FRONTENAC? 
 
 could be generated ! 1 ! I paid my bill and kept 
 the story for you ! 
 
 The manager evidently felt he "owed me one," 
 for, as he handed me the receipt he said: "I am 
 sorry you would not let us have that story to 
 print. I was thinking of calling it 'One Every 
 Minute/" 
 
 XXXVII 
 
 ANGLIA OR FRONTENAC? 
 
 You will be surprised to learn that the car is 
 on the dock at Tilbury, boxed and waiting for 
 the Georgic to sail, and that we are returning on 
 the Adriatic in about a week ! 
 
 "What has happened?" I can imagine you say- 
 ing. Well, so much has happened that I hardly 
 know where to begin I 
 
 What do you suppose Ruth had to tell me 
 when I reached the hotel? Perhaps you have 
 guessed. Yes, our dearest hopes are at length 
 please God to be realized. 
 
 Ruth had not been quite like herself since the 
 breakdown at Ross, and had written Maud, who 
 at once said there was but one man in the world 
 for her to see you know what women are about 
 their pet doctors I So, as you already have been 
 [ 227 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 told, Maud hastened to Barchester, I was bundled 
 out of the way, and the two sisters came to town 
 and saw the great man. 
 
 "He was perfectly lovely," said Ruth to me, 
 her eyes full of tears. 
 
 "How old is he?" I suspiciously asked. 
 
 "He looked like papa," said Ruth, and burst 
 into tears. 
 
 Well, the important matter is that he told her 
 she was not mistaken but urged her to take great 
 care of herself. 
 
 She asked if she might motor ? 
 
 "It would be better," he replied, for her to 
 "job a brougham," while she was in town, be- 
 cause the taxi men drove so recklessly. 
 
 "But what about motoring in the country?" 
 
 "With a very careful driver, and on smooth 
 roads I should have no objection to a few miles 
 a day. But, indeed, you cannot be too care- 
 ful." 
 
 When I heard that I turned cold ! "A careful 
 driver and smooth roads!" I thought of the 
 hill at Sawley and the sidewalk at Shrewsbury, 
 the "narrer road" in Ireland with the leap to 
 the top of the hedge, and of the railway crossing I 
 
 I hurried to the garage and drove the car not 
 across London this tune, but around it, and came 
 to Tilbury as soon as I could. I was afraid the 
 [ 228 ]
 
 ANGLIA OR FRONTENAC? 
 
 car might do us an injury if it were not quickly 
 boxed ! 
 
 So our journey has come to an unexpected end, 
 and you will have to read no more letters, for we 
 shall be home, I hope, almost as soon as this 
 reaches you. Now that my face is turned home- 
 ward I am impatient to arrive. I want to see 
 the dear people and to get to work once more on 
 the noisy old corner. And, above all, I want to 
 drop into the study after working hours say 
 between eleven and twelve at night, and when 
 the pipes are drawing well, listen to you talk. 
 "No," I can fancy you saying, "you don't want 
 to listen, you want to talk ! " 
 
 Well, perhaps both! But before I see you I 
 want to make a sort of Apologia for the letters I 
 have written you. 
 
 I am ashamed to think how flippant they must 
 have seemed. But, indeed, while I dwelt upon 
 the ridiculous side, thinking it might amuse you 
 in your temporary blindness, you will not think 
 so ill of me as to suppose that I am unable to ap- 
 preciate the most wonderful people in history 
 bar one ! though the best in that one came out 
 of this little island. As the writer of the Epistles 
 to the Hebrews might have said: "America was 
 in the loins of England when the foundations of 
 democracy were laid !" 
 
 [ 229 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 We Americans see the humorous side of the 
 feudal system which survives in the domestic life 
 of England, but no thoughtful man can fail to be 
 filled with admiration for the way England has 
 guarded the "rights of man" far better than they 
 are guarded with us. 
 
 The rights of the minority are disregarded with 
 us, but in England it is not so. It is not so 
 much a deliberate spirit of compromise which 
 is the source of England's strength, but rather 
 an automatic arrangement which nature directs 
 toward compensation. Just as I think I have 
 said this before, but no matter in a pendulum 
 there are metals of different expanding degrees, 
 so in England the individual is merged in the 
 family to an extent we can hardly imagine, be- 
 cause with us the intense individuality of the 
 people shows itself in the family in such a way 
 that it is a question how long the family can exist. 
 On the other hand, in England, when the indi- 
 vidual does emerge from the family, he becomes 
 far more of a political personality than with us. 
 
 Then see how much we have to learn from them 
 in the matter of education. I have no doubt our 
 public schools are superior to the English board 
 schools. But when it comes to the education of 
 those who ought to be the leaders of the people, 
 we cannot compare with them. Boys sent to 
 [ 230 ]
 
 ANGLIA OR FRONTENAC? 
 
 Winchester, Eton, Harrow, Rugby and other 
 great "public" schools may not have the variety 
 of studies of which our boys get a smattering, 
 but how much better are their minds trained than 
 are our boys' ! There is a popular outcry just 
 now about the time wasted on the "dead" lan- 
 guages. But it is forgotten that, apart from the 
 benefit that comes from knowing the best that the 
 ancient world thought, the public school man has 
 learned to use his Greek and Latin as "top dress- 
 ing" to enrich his style, and so is able to express 
 himself in a clear and concise way which is the 
 envy of all students of speech. 
 
 Undoubtedly, this education has been too much 
 the privilege of the favored few, but on the other 
 hand it has tended to instil a sense of responsibility 
 to the community which has given England the 
 services of her most cultivated men, while we have 
 had to put up with the "professional politician." 
 
 What England will do when democracy claims 
 the right to share the best, remains to be seen. 
 But that it has an immense advantage in having 
 already set a high standard, no thoughtful man 
 can deny. However, these are questions I must 
 save to talk about when we meet, which I am glad 
 to think will be soon. 
 
 I tell Ruth that, if it is a girl, she must be called 
 "Anglia"; if a boy, we must name him "Fron- 
 [231 ]
 
 ENGLISH WAYS AND BY-WAYS 
 
 tenac." But she has settled the matter and, as 
 usual, I submit. She says: "His name shall be 
 called John." 
 
 Well, I cannot but think he will be born under 
 an auspicious star, for his life began on our happy, 
 sunny day ! 
 
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