In Pastures New
CHAPTER X
MR. PEASLEY AND HIS VIVID IMPRESSIONS OF FOREIGN PARTS
In Naples--and Mr. Peasley is still with us.
_Mr. Peasley is still with us_]
We waited for him in London until he recovered his lost trunk, and hewas so grateful that he decided to go along with us.
He said that he was foot-loose and without any definite plans and italways made him feel more at home to travel with people who were justas green and as much scared as he was.
A week ago we were in London--sloshing about in the damp and dismalmixture of mud and snow which lined the dark thoroughfares.
This morning we are basking in the crystal sunlight of Naples--the bluebay, with the crescent outline on one side, the white walls of themounting city on the other, Vesuvius looming in the distance behind ahazy curtain, and tourists crowding the landscape in the immediateforeground.
Three big steamers are lying at anchor within the breakwater--one fromGenoa, one from Marseilles, and one from New York--and all heavilyladen with Americans, some sixty of whom will be our fellow-passengersto Alexandria. The hotels are overflowing with Yankee pilgrims, andevery Neapolitan who has imitation coral and celluloid tortoise shellfor sale is wearing an expectant smile.
The jack-rabbit horses attached to the ramshackle little victorias leanwearily in their shafts, for these are busy days. The harvest days areat hand. The Americans have come. An English woman who had seen thehorde in the streets here remarked to a friend this morning, "It mustbe awfully lonesome in America just at present."
And she meant it, too.
It has been a fairly busy week for Mr. Peasley. Mr. Peasley isaddicted to the habit of taking notes. Every night at the hotel hetakes out a small leather-bound book presented to him by an insurancecompany in America in appreciation of the fact that he has paid thecompany all his ready money for the last fifteen years, and in thissmall volume he jots down brief memoranda.
Mr. Peasley has a terse style. Sometimes he uses abbreviations. HisEnglish is not of the most scholarly brand. As he is merely writingfor himself, it makes no difference.
The Peasley notebook, after twenty days in Europe, is full of meatyinformation, and contains many a flashlight on life in the Old World.By permission we are reproducing it herewith.
LONDON
"By Warrant.--Every man in London who sells anything, from a collarbutton to a chariot-and-four, does so 'by appointment' or 'by warrant.'Poor man opens shop--business bad. He is trying to sell shaving soap.One day royal personage floats in and buys a cake for 6d., whateverthat means. Dealer puts out gold sign to the effect that he issupplying the royalty with lather. Public breaks down showcasesgetting at his merchandise. All true democrats theoretically ignorethis second-hand worship of royalty, but, just the same, take noticethat the shops with the rared-up unicorns in front and the testimonialsfrom their Royal Majesties are the ones that catch the humble Americantourist.
"Opera Hats.--Wandered into a hat store and discovered, to myamazement, that the proprietor was the inventor of the opera, orconcertina, hat. Surprised--always supposed that at least a dozen menhad worked on it. Establishment had documents to prove that the firstfolding hat had been manufactured on the very spot where I stood.Proprietor has not yet been knighted--probably an oversight.
"Rubber Pavement.--The large covered court of the Savoy Hotel is pavedwith blocks of soft rubber three feet square. Constant procession ofcabs in and out of court, and rubber deadens sound. Good idea--shouldbe used in all the streets of New York. New cab horse comesalong--never has tackled rubber pavement--is clattering noisily overthe asphalt--suddenly hits the soft rubber and begins to bounce up anddown like a tennis ball. Strange look comes into horse's eye and hecrouches like a rabbit, looks over his shoulder at the driver, andseems to be asking, 'What am I up against?' Mean trick to play on agreen horse. Should be a warning sign displayed."
"_What am I up against?_"]
"Famine in Trousers.--One type of English chappy, too old for bread andjam and not quite old enough for music halls, wears extraordinarytrousers--legs very narrow and reefed above tops of shoes (I meanboots)--causes them to look thin and bird-like.
"English Drama.--Saw new problem play last evening--new play, but sameold bunch of trouble. Each principal character failed to marry theperson of the opposite sex with whom he or she was really in love.Marriages did not interfere with love affairs, but helped to complicatethe plot. Discovered why we can never have a great native drama in theStates--we have no open fireplaces in which to destroy theincriminating papers. Impossible to destroy papers at a steam radiator.
"L.C.C.--In musical comedies, pantomimes, and at music halls, manysarcastic references to L.C.C., meaning London County Council. Councilis ploughing open new streets, tearing down old buildings, putting upnew buildings, and spending money like a sailor on a holiday. Theirextravagance has given great offence to the low comedians and otherheavy rate payers, while the very poor people, who are getting parks,sunshine and shower baths free of charge, bless the L.C.C. The dresscoat crowd in the theatres seem to have it in for the L.C.C., but theyare very strong for Mr. Chamberlain, notwithstanding his recent defeat.Mr. Chamberlain seems to be a great deal like Mr. Bryan--that is,nearly everyone admires him, but not enough people vote for him. Inspite of protest from property holders, L.C.C. is going bravely aheadwith gigantic task of modernising and beautifying London. Asked anEnglishman why there was so much criticism of L.C.C. He said if youtouch a Britisher in the region of his pocketbook he lets out a hollerthat can be heard in Labrador. Didn't use those words, but that's whathe meant.
"Snowstorm.--Last night a few snowflakes drifted into PiccadillyCircus; hardly enough to cover the ground this morning, but everyone istalking about the 'snowstorm.' London is away ahead of us on fogs, buttheir snowstorms are very amateurish.
"Coals.--Buying my coal by the quart--forty cents a quart. If I fedthe fire the way I do at home would spend $100 a day. The official whobrings fuel to my room in a small tin measure insists upon calling it'coals,' but I didn't think there was enough of it to justify use ofplural."
PARIS
"Coming Across.--The turbine boat from Dover to Calais ran like ascared deer and rolled like an intoxicated duck. Held to rail all theway across, looking fixedly at oscillating horizon and wondering why Ihad left home--bleak, snowy landscape all the way from Calais to Paris.After dinner went to music hall and learned that Paris could be fairlywarm, even in the dead of winter.
"Keeping Tab on the Cab.--The 'taximetre' cab is a greatinstitution--small clockwork arrangement alongside of seat, so thatpassenger may sit and watch the indicator and know how his bill isrunning up. The indicator is set at seventy-five centimes at thestart. In other words, you owe fifteen cents before you get away.Then it clicks up ten centimes at a time, and when you reach yourdestination there is no chance for an argument regarding the total.What they need now in Paris is a mechanism to prevent the driver fromtaking you by a roundabout way.
"Just for Fun.--Strange epidemic of killing in Paris. Two or threemurders every night, not for revenge or in furtherance of robbery, butmerely to gratify a morbid desire to take life. Among certain recklessclasses of toughs, or 'Hooligans,' it is said to be quite the fashionfor ambitious characters to go out at night and kill a few belatedpedestrians merely in a spirit of bravado and to build up a reputationamong their associates. Seems unfair to the pedestrians. At one ofthe theatres where a '_revue_' or hodge-podge 'take-off' on topics ofcurrent interest, was being presented, the new type of playful murdererwas represented as waiting at a corner and shooting up, one afteranother, some twenty-five citizens who chanced to stray along. Thisperformance was almost as good as the Buffalo Bill show and gave muchdelight to the audience.
"Costly Slumber.--From Paris to Marseilles is about as far as fromChicago to Pittsburg. Sleeping car fare is about $10; total fare bynight train, about $30. Two cents a pound for all baggage in excess ofa
measly fifty-six pounds. No wonder people travel by day in therefrigerator cars and try to keep warm by crawling under hundreds ofpounds of 'hand luggage.' Anything with a handle to it is 'handluggage.' Some of the cowhide bags must have used up two or three cows.
"Tea Habit. The tea habit has struck Paris. At Grand Hotel and manycafes general round-up about five in the afternoon, everyone gulpingtea and eating cakes. Not as demoralising as the absinthe habit, butmore insidious.
"American Music.--After a 'coon' song has earned a pension in theUnited States it comes over to Paris and is grabbed up as a startlingnovelty. All the '_revues_' studded with songs popular at home abouttwo years ago--Frenchmen believe that all Americans devote themselves,day in and day out, to accumulating vast wealth and singing coon songs.
"Oysters.--Went to famous fish and oyster restaurant for dinner. TheGallic oyster wears a deep blush of shame and tastes like the day aftertaking calomel. Thought horseradish might improve, modify oraltogether kill the taste, so I tried to order some. Knew that 'horse'was 'cheveau' and 'red' was 'rouge,' but could not think of the Frenchfor 'ish,' so I had to do without. Somewhat discouraged about myFrench. Almost as bad as former American Consul, who, after eightyears in Paris, had to send for an interpreter to find out what 'oui'meant. Have got 'merci' down pat, but still pronounce it 'mercy.'"
MARSEILLES
"More Snow.--The further south we go the colder the weather and thedeeper the snow. Getting my furs ready for Cairo. Ten hours on thetrain from Paris to Marseilles, wrapped in a blanket and counting thewarts on a foreign commercial traveller who sat opposite. No twocounts agreed. Had looked forward during a long month to this ridethrough sunny France. Had dreamed of green landscapes that lay smilingin the genial warmth, the stately poplars leading away to purple hills,and the happy labourers looking up from their toil in the fields tosmile at us and bid us welcome as we flashed by. Not a bit like it.More on the order of North Dakota. Everybody says it is the coldestsnap that Southern France has known in many years. They saved up alltheir cold weather so as to hand it to me when I came along.
"Bouillabaisse (spelling not guaranteed).--There is only one thing todo in Marseilles, and that is to drive out to an excellent restaurantbuilt on a rock overlooking the bay and partake of bouillabaisse. Dishfamed in song and story. Mentioned, often in 'Trilby.' Possibly thatis what ailed Svengali. The bouillabaisse and the 'Marseillaise' wereboth invented in Marseilles. The mayonnaise comes from elsewhere. Thebouillabaisse is a combination of soup, ragout, chowder, and NewEngland boiled dinner. There are many ingredients. It is said theyput in whatever they have the most of--sea bass, lobsters, crayfish,vegetables, sauces--everything except the license. Liked the tastevery much--first when I ate it, and then all during the afternoon andevening.
"Chateau d'If.--Coming out of the harbour we ran very close to theChateau d'If, a stern fortress prison topping a huge rock risingsharply from the bay. Count of Monte Cristo was imprisoned here. Manon board said that the character of Edmund Dantes was whollyfictitious, manufactured by Dumas. Must be a mistake, as I saw thesmall rock on which James O'Neill used to stand at the end of the firstact and exclaim, 'The world is mine!' It is exactly as represented onthe stage, except for the calcium light."
NAPLES
"The Ship's Barber.--Coming across from Marseilles in the _dampfer_(Germ. for boat) the weather moderated so that I needed only oneovercoat. Got acquainted with barber. Often have some trouble inmaking up with a captain, but can usually hit it off with the barber.A good barber is a bureau of information, headquarters for scandal, andknows what the run is going to be. The barber on our _dampfer_ nogood. Shy on conversation, but great on arithmetic. Charged me twofrancs for a shave, and when I suggested that he was rather high hesaid he was compelled to ask one franc and thirty centimes for theextract of vanilla he had put on my hair. Told him I did not want anyextract of vanilla, but he said there was no way of getting it backinto the bottle. Besides, he had the money, so we compromised bypermitting him to keep it. Said he longed to go to America. I toldhim there would probably be an opening in America for anyone soenergetic and muscular, and I promised to give him a letter to Armour &Co., of Chicago."
_Promised him a letter to Armour & Co., Chicago_]
"Free Fireworks.--A full hundred miles out at sea we could make out anirregular oval of fire suspended in the sky--the two streams of lavanow trickling down Vesuvius. Finest landmark and sailing target asailor could ask for. When we were forty miles away we wanted thecaptain to slow up for fear he would run into the mountain and injureit. Next morning in harbour we discovered that we were still ten milesaway from it.
"The New Naples.--In ten years Naples has done a lot of sprucing up.Streets are cleaner, new and pretentious buildings have multiplied,smells have been eliminated. Guides, beggars and cabmen not sopestiferous as of yore, but still bad enough to deserve electrocution,provided some more lingering form of death could not be substituted.Cabmen seemed downcast. Municipality recently forbade any extra chargefor cab service on a _fiesta_, or holiday. In Italy 300 days out ofevery 365 can be rung in under the head of _fiestas_. Every Americanwho landed in Naples found himself right in the midst of a _fiesta_ andhad to pay two fares, or as much as thirty cents in gold, to ridearound in one of the open hacks. Thirty cents would seem a reasonablecharge, but not after you have seen the hack. The smaller the horse inNaples the heavier the harness. Evidently a desire to have about thesame total weight in each case.
"Emigrants.--Alongside of our ship lay a German steamer about to sailfor America. The tender made trips to and from the dock, and everytime she came out she was filled to the last inch with Italianemigrants. We saw hundreds of them disappear into the ship, so many itseemed they must have been packed in below by hydraulic pressure,otherwise there wouldn't have been room for them. All headed for theland of the free to build railroads. Englishman wanted to know whythere was such heavy emigrant traffic at this particular season. Toldhim they were hurrying over to vote at the April election in Chicago.He believed it. Come to think of it, I believe it myself."
This is Mr. Peasley's notebook up to the present moment, just as we aredeparting for Alexandria. He admits that he may have overlooked a fewminor points of interest, but he more than made up by neglecting tomention Napoleon's tomb or the Moulin Rouge.
Since arriving in Naples this morning Mr. Peasley has arranged with thetourist agency to change his ticket, and he will accompany us to Egypt.
IN CAIRO