In Pastures New
CHAPTER V
AS TO THE IMPORTANCE OF THE PASSPORT AND THE HANDY LITTLE CABLE CODE
Advice to those following along behind. Stock up on heavy flannels anddo not bother about a passport.
Before we became old and hardened travellers we were led to believethat any American who appeared at a frontier without a passport wouldbe hurried to a dungeon or else marched in the snow all the way toSiberia.
When I first visited the eastern hemisphere (I _do_ love to recall thefact that I have been over here before), our little company oftravellers prepared for European experiences by reading a smallhandbook of advice. The topics were arranged alphabetically, and thespecific information set out under each heading was more valuable andimpressive at the beginning of the trip than it was after we had comehome and read it in the cold light of experience. We paid particularheed to the following:
"PASSPORTS--Every American travelling in Europe should carry apassport. At many frontiers a passport, properly 'vised,' must beshown before the traveller will be allowed to enter the country. Apassport is always valuable as an identification when money is to bedrawn on a letter of credit. Very often it will secure for the beareradmission to palaces, galleries and other show places which are closedto the general public. It is the most ready answer to any policeinquiry, and will serve as a letter of introduction to all consularoffices."
We read the foregoing and sent for passports before we bought oursteamship tickets.
I have been a notary public; I have graduated from a highschool; I havetaken out accident insurance, and once, in a careless moment, Ipurchased one thousand shares of mining stock. In each instance Ireceived a work of art on parchment--something bold and black andGothic, garnished with gold seals and curly-cues. But for splendour ofcomposition and majesty of design, the passport makes all otherimportant documents seem pale and pointless. There is an Americaneagle at the top, with his trousers turned up, and beneath is a boldpronouncement to the world in general that the bearer is an Americancitizen, entitled to everything that he can afford to buy. No man canread his own passport without being more or less stuck on himself. Inever had a chance to use the one given to me years ago, but I stillkeep it and read it once in a while to bolster up my self-respect.
When we first landed at Liverpool each man had his passport in hisinside coat pocket within easy reach, so that in case of an insult oran impertinent question he could flash it forth and say: "Stand back!I am an American citizen!" After a week in London we went to the bankto draw some more money. The first man handed in his letter of creditand said: "If necessary, I have a pass----"
Before he could say any more the cashier reached out a little scoopshovel loaded with sovereigns and said: "Twenty pounds, sir."
We never could find a banker who wanted to look at our passports or whocould be induced to take so much as a glance at them. I said to onebanker: "We have our passports in case you require any identification."He said: "Rully, it isn't necessary, you know. I am quite sure thatyou are from Chicago."
We couldn't determine whether this was sheer courtesy on his part orwhether we were different.
After we were on the continent we hoped that some policeman would cometo the hotel and investigate us, so that we could smile coolly and say:"Look at that," at the same time handing him the blue envelope. Thento note his dismay and to have him apologise and back out. But thepolice never learned that we were in town.
As for the art galleries and palaces, we had believed the handbook. Wefancied that some day or other one of us would approach the entrance toa palace and that a gendarme would step out and say: "Pardon, monsieur,but the palace is closed to all visitors to-day."
"To most visitors, you mean."
"To all, monsieur."
"I think not, do you know who I am?"
"No, monsieur."
"Then don't say a word about anything being closed until you find out.I am an American. Here is my passport. Fling open the doors!"
At which the gendarme would prostrate himself and the American wouldpass in, while a large body of English, French and German touristswould stand outside and envy him.
Alas, it was a day-dream. Every palace that was closed seemed to bereally closed, and when we did find the gendarme who was to behumiliated, we discovered that we couldn't speak his language, and,besides, we felt so humble in his presence that we wouldn't haveventured to talk to him under any circumstances.
We travelled in England, Ireland, Holland, Belgium, Germany,Switzerland, Italy, and France, crossing and recrossing frontiers, andwe never encountered a man, woman or child who would consent to look atour passports.
On the other hand, the cable code is something that no tourist shouldbe without. Whenever he is feeling blue or downcast he can open thecode book and get a few hearty laughs. Suppose he wishes to send amessage to his brother in Toledo. The code permits him to concentratehis message into the tabloid form and put a long newsy letter into twoor three words. He opens the blue book and finds that he can send anyof the following tidings to Toledo:
_Adjunctio_--Apartments required are engaged and will be ready foroccupation on Wednesday.
_Amalior_--Bills of lading have not been endorsed.
_Animatio_--Twins, boy and girl, all well.
_Collaria_--Received invitation to dinner and theatre, _Illaqueo_--Havea fly at the station to meet train arriving at eight o'clock.
_Napina_--Machinery out of order. Delay will be great.
_Remissus_--Can you obtain good security?
And so on, page after page. Theoretically, this vest pocket volume isa valuable helpmate, but when Mr. Peasley wanted to cable Iowa to havehis Masonic dues paid and let Bill Levison take the river farm foranother year and try to collect the money from Joe Spillers, the codebook did not seem to have the proper equivalents.
We had with us on the boat an American who carried a very elaboratecode book. All the way up from Plymouth to London he was working on acablegram to his wife. When he turned it over to the operator, this isthe joyous message that went singing through the water back to New York:
"LIZCAM, New York. Hobgoblin buckwheat explosion manifold cranberrysuspicious.
"JAMES."
He showed us a copy and seemed to be very proud of it.
"That's what you save by having a code," he explained.
"What will Lizcam think when he receives that?"
"He? That's my wife's registered cable address. 'Liz' for Lizzie and'Cam' for Campbell. Her maiden name was Lizzie Campbell."
"Well, what does that mean about a buckwheat hobgoblin having asuspicious explosion?"
"Oh, those words are selected arbitrarily to represent full sentencesin the code. When my wife gets that cable she will look up those wordsone after the other and elaborate the message so that it will read likethis:
He showed us the following:
"Mrs. Chauncey Cupple, Mount Joy Hotel, New York----Dear Wife: Well,here we are at London, after a very pleasant voyage, all thingsconsidered. We had only two days of inclement weather and I was notseasick at any time. We saw a great many porpoises, but no whales.The third day out I won the pool on the run. Formed the acquaintanceof several pleasant people. (Signed) James."
"It's just as good as a letter," said the man from Buffalo.
"Yes, and I save fifty-eight words," said Cupple. "I wouldn't travelwithout a code."
"Why don't you tack on another word and let her know how many knots wemade each day?" asked the Buffalo man, but his sarcasm was wasted.
A week later I met Mr. Cupple and he said that the cablegram had givenhis wife nervous prostration.
Mr. Cupple is not a careful penman and the cable operator had read thelast word of the message as "auspicious" instead of "suspicious." Areference to the code showed that the mistake changed the sense of themessage.
"_Suspicious_--Formed the acquaintance of several pleasant people.
"_Auspicious_--After a futile effort to w
ork the pumps the captain gaveorders to lower the boats. The passengers were in a panic, but thecaptain coolly restrained them and gave orders that the women andchildren should be sent away first."
The message, as altered in transmission, caused Mrs. Cupple someuneasiness, and, also, it puzzled her. It was gratifying to know thather husband had enjoyed the voyage and escaped seasickness, but she didnot like to leave him on the deck of the ship with a lot of women andchildren stepping up to take the best places in the boat. Yet shecould not believe that he had been lost, otherwise, how could he havefiled a cablegram at London?
She wanted further particulars, but she could not find in the code anyword meaning "Are you drowned?"
So she sent a forty-word inquiry to London, and when Mr. Cupple countedthe cost of it he cabled back:
"All right. Ignore code."