they offend in this manner. And when I think on the subject with
deliberation at my own desk, I can not only excuse, but almost
approve them. But when one personally encounters this corduroy
braggadocio; when the man to whose services one is entitled answers
one with determined insolence; when one is bidden to follow "that
young lady," meaning the chambermaid, or desired, with a toss of
the head, to wait for the "gentleman who is coming," meaning the
boots, the heart is sickened, and the English traveler pines for
the civility--for the servility, if my American friends choose to
call it so--of a well-ordered servant. But the whole scene is
easily construed, and turned into English. A man is asked by a
stranger some question about his employment, and he replies in a
tone which seems to imply anger, insolence, and a dishonest
intention to evade the service for which he is paid. Or, if there
be no question of service or payment, the man's manner will be the
same, and the stranger feels that he is slapped in the face and
insulted. The translation of it is this: The man questioned, who
is aware that as regards coat, hat, boots, and outward cleanliness
he is below him by whom he is questioned, unconsciously feels
himself called upon to assert his political equality. It is his
shibboleth that he is politically equal to the best, that he is
independent, and that his labor, though it earn him but a dollar a
day by porterage, places him as a citizen on an equal rank with the
most wealthy fellow-man that may employ or accost him. But, being
so inferior in that coat, hat, and boots matter, he is forced to
assert his equality by some effort. As he improves in externals,
he will diminish the roughness of his claim. As long as the man
makes his claim with any roughness, so long does he acknowledge
within himself some feeling of external inferiority. When that has
gone--when the American has polished himself up by education and