In Pastures New Part 9

He said that he was foot-loose and without any definite plans and it always made him feel more at home to travel with people who were just as green and as much scared as he was.

A week ago we were in London--slos.h.i.+ng about in the damp and dismal mixture of mud and snow which lined the dark thoroughfares.

This morning we are basking in the crystal sunlight of Naples--the blue bay, with the crescent outline on one side, the white walls of the mounting city on the other, Vesuvius looming in the distance behind a hazy curtain, and tourists crowding the landscape in the immediate foreground.

Three big steamers are lying at anchor within the breakwater--one from Genoa, one from Ma.r.s.eilles, and one from New York--and all heavily laden with Americans, some sixty of whom will be our fellow-pa.s.sengers to Alexandria. The hotels are overflowing with Yankee pilgrims, and every Neapolitan who has imitation coral and celluloid tortoise sh.e.l.l for sale is wearing an expectant smile.

The jack-rabbit horses attached to the ramshackle little victorias lean wearily in their shafts, for these are busy days. The harvest days are at hand. The Americans have come. An English woman who had seen the horde in the streets here remarked to a friend this morning, "It must be awfully lonesome in America just at present."

And she meant it, too.

It has been a fairly busy week for Mr. Peasley. Mr. Peasley is addicted to the habit of taking notes. Every night at the hotel he takes out a small leather-bound book presented to him by an insurance company in America in appreciation of the fact that he has paid the company all his ready money for the last fifteen years, and in this small volume he jots down brief memoranda.

Mr. Peasley has a terse style. Sometimes he uses abbreviations. His English is not of the most scholarly brand. As he is merely writing for himself, it makes no difference.

The Peasley notebook, after twenty days in Europe, is full of meaty information, 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 collar b.u.t.ton 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., whatever that means. Dealer puts out gold sign to the effect that he is supplying the royalty with lather. Public breaks down showcases getting at his merchandise. All true democrats theoretically ignore this second-hand wors.h.i.+p of royalty, but, just the same, take notice that the shops with the rared-up unicorns in front and the testimonials from their Royal Majesties are the ones that catch the humble American tourist.

"Opera Hats.--Wandered into a hat store and discovered, to my amazement, that the proprietor was the inventor of the opera, or concertina, hat. Surprised--always supposed that at least a dozen men had worked on it. Establishment had doc.u.ments to prove that the first folding 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 paved with blocks of soft rubber three feet square. Constant procession of cabs in and out of court, and rubber deadens sound. Good idea--should be used in all the streets of New York. New cab horse comes along--never has tackled rubber pavement--is clattering noisily over the asphalt--suddenly hits the soft rubber and begins to bounce up and down like a tennis ball. Strange look comes into horse's eye and he crouches like a rabbit, looks over his shoulder at the driver, and seems to be asking, 'What am I up against?' Mean trick to play on a green horse. Should be a warning sign displayed."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "_What am I up against?_"]

"Famine in Trousers.--One type of English chappy, too old for bread and jam and not quite old enough for music halls, wears extraordinary trousers--legs very narrow and reefed above tops of shoes (I mean boots)--causes them to look thin and bird-like.

"English Drama.--Saw new problem play last evening--new play, but same old bunch of trouble. Each princ.i.p.al character failed to marry the person of the opposite s.e.x with whom he or she was really in love.

Marriages did not interfere with love affairs, but helped to complicate the plot. Discovered why we can never have a great native drama in the States--we have no open fireplaces in which to destroy the incriminating papers. Impossible to destroy papers at a steam radiator.

"L.C.C.--In musical comedies, pantomimes, and at music halls, many sarcastic references to L.C.C., meaning London County Council. Council is ploughing open new streets, tearing down old buildings, putting up new buildings, and spending money like a sailor on a holiday. Their extravagance has given great offence to the low comedians and other heavy rate payers, while the very poor people, who are getting parks, suns.h.i.+ne and shower baths free of charge, bless the L.C.C. The dress coat crowd in the theatres seem to have it in for the L.C.C., but they are 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. In spite of protest from property holders, L.C.C. is going bravely ahead with gigantic task of modernising and beautifying London. Asked an Englishman why there was so much criticism of L.C.C. He said if you touch a Britisher in the region of his pocketbook he lets out a holler that can be heard in Labrador. Didn't use those words, but that's what he meant.

"Snowstorm.--Last night a few snowflakes drifted into Piccadilly Circus; hardly enough to cover the ground this morning, but everyone is talking about the 'snowstorm.' London is away ahead of us on fogs, but their snowstorms are very amateurish.

"Coals.--Buying my coal by the quart--forty cents a quart. If I fed the fire the way I do at home would spend $100 a day. The official who brings 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 of plural."

PARIS

"Coming Across.--The turbine boat from Dover to Calais ran like a scared deer and rolled like an intoxicated duck. Held to rail all the way across, looking fixedly at oscillating horizon and wondering why I had left home--bleak, snowy landscape all the way from Calais to Paris.

After dinner went to music hall and learned that Paris could be fairly warm, even in the dead of winter.

"Keeping Tab on the Cab.--The 'taximetre' cab is a great inst.i.tution--small clockwork arrangement alongside of seat, so that pa.s.senger may sit and watch the indicator and know how his bill is running up. The indicator is set at seventy-five centimes at the start. In other words, you owe fifteen cents before you get away.

Then it clicks up ten centimes at a time, and when you reach your destination there is no chance for an argument regarding the total.

What they need now in Paris is a mechanism to prevent the driver from taking you by a roundabout way.

"Just for Fun.--Strange epidemic of killing in Paris. Two or three murders every night, not for revenge or in furtherance of robbery, but merely to gratify a morbid desire to take life. Among certain reckless cla.s.ses of toughs, or 'Hooligans,' it is said to be quite the fas.h.i.+on for ambitious characters to go out at night and kill a few belated pedestrians merely in a spirit of bravado and to build up a reputation among their a.s.sociates. Seems unfair to the pedestrians. At one of the theatres where a '_revue_' or hodge-podge 'take-off' on topics of current interest, was being presented, the new type of playful murderer was represented as waiting at a corner and shooting up, one after another, some twenty-five citizens who chanced to stray along. This performance was almost as good as the Buffalo Bill show and gave much delight to the audience.

"Costly Slumber.--From Paris to Ma.r.s.eilles is about as far as from Chicago to Pittsburg. Sleeping car fare is about $10; total fare by night train, about $30. Two cents a pound for all baggage in excess of a measly fifty-six pounds. No wonder people travel by day in the refrigerator cars and try to keep warm by crawling under hundreds of pounds of 'hand luggage.' Anything with a handle to it is 'hand luggage.' 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 many cafes general round-up about five in the afternoon, everyone gulping tea and eating cakes. Not as demoralising as the absinthe habit, but more insidious.

"American Music.--After a 'c.o.o.n' song has earned a pension in the United States it comes over to Paris and is grabbed up as a startling novelty. All the '_revues_' studded with songs popular at home about two years ago--Frenchmen believe that all Americans devote themselves, day in and day out, to acc.u.mulating vast wealth and singing c.o.o.n songs.

"Oysters.--Went to famous fish and oyster restaurant for dinner. The Gallic oyster wears a deep blush of shame and tastes like the day after taking calomel. Thought horseradish might improve, modify or altogether kill the taste, so I tried to order some. Knew that 'horse'

was 'cheveau' and 'red' was 'rouge,' but could not think of the French for 'ish,' so I had to do without. Somewhat discouraged about my French. Almost as bad as former American Consul, who, after eight years in Paris, had to send for an interpreter to find out what 'oui'

meant. Have got 'merci' down pat, but still p.r.o.nounce it 'mercy.'"

Ma.r.s.eILLES

"More Snow.--The further south we go the colder the weather and the deeper the snow. Getting my furs ready for Cairo. Ten hours on the train from Paris to Ma.r.s.eilles, wrapped in a blanket and counting the warts on a foreign commercial traveller who sat opposite. No two counts agreed. Had looked forward during a long month to this ride through sunny France. Had dreamed of green landscapes that lay smiling in the genial warmth, the stately poplars leading away to purple hills, and the happy labourers looking up from their toil in the fields to smile 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 coldest snap that Southern France has known in many years. They saved up all their cold weather so as to hand it to me when I came along.

"Bouillabaisse (spelling not guaranteed).--There is only one thing to do in Ma.r.s.eilles, and that is to drive out to an excellent restaurant built on a rock overlooking the bay and partake of bouillabaisse. Dish famed in song and story. Mentioned, often in 'Trilby.' Possibly that is what ailed Svengali. The bouillabaisse and the 'Ma.r.s.eillaise' were both invented in Ma.r.s.eilles. The mayonnaise comes from elsewhere. The bouillabaisse is a combination of soup, ragout, chowder, and New England boiled dinner. There are many ingredients. It is said they put in whatever they have the most of--sea ba.s.s, lobsters, crayfish, vegetables, sauces--everything except the license. Liked the taste very much--first when I ate it, and then all during the afternoon and evening.

"Chateau d'If.--Coming out of the harbour we ran very close to the Chateau d'If, a stern fortress prison topping a huge rock rising sharply from the bay. Count of Monte Cristo was imprisoned here. Man on board said that the character of Edmund Dantes was wholly fict.i.tious, manufactured by Dumas. Must be a mistake, as I saw the small rock on which James O'Neill used to stand at the end of the first act and exclaim, 'The world is mine!' It is exactly as represented on the stage, except for the calcium light."

NAPLES

"The s.h.i.+p's Barber.--Coming across from Ma.r.s.eilles in the _dampfer_ (Germ. for boat) the weather moderated so that I needed only one overcoat. Got acquainted with barber. Often have some trouble in making up with a captain, but can usually hit it off with the barber.

A good barber is a bureau of information, headquarters for scandal, and knows what the run is going to be. The barber on our _dampfer_ no good. Shy on conversation, but great on arithmetic. Charged me two francs for a shave, and when I suggested that he was rather high he said he was compelled to ask one franc and thirty centimes for the extract of vanilla he had put on my hair. Told him I did not want any extract of vanilla, but he said there was no way of getting it back into the bottle. Besides, he had the money, so we compromised by permitting him to keep it. Said he longed to go to America. I told him there would probably be an opening in America for anyone so energetic and muscular, and I promised to give him a letter to Armour & Co., of Chicago."

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Promised him a letter to Armour & Co., Chicago_]

"Free Fireworks.--A full hundred miles out at sea we could make out an irregular oval of fire suspended in the sky--the two streams of lava now trickling down Vesuvius. Finest landmark and sailing target a sailor could ask for. When we were forty miles away we wanted the captain to slow up for fear he would run into the mountain and injure it. Next morning in harbour we discovered that we were still ten miles away 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 so pestiferous as of yore, but still bad enough to deserve electrocution, provided some more lingering form of death could not be subst.i.tuted.

Cabmen seemed downcast. Munic.i.p.ality recently forbade any extra charge for cab service on a _fiesta_, or holiday. In Italy 300 days out of every 365 can be rung in under the head of _fiestas_. Every American who landed in Naples found himself right in the midst of a _fiesta_ and had to pay two fares, or as much as thirty cents in gold, to ride around in one of the open hacks. Thirty cents would seem a reasonable charge, but not after you have seen the hack. The smaller the horse in Naples the heavier the harness. Evidently a desire to have about the same total weight in each case.

"Emigrants.--Alongside of our s.h.i.+p lay a German steamer about to sail for America. The tender made trips to and from the dock, and every time she came out she was filled to the last inch with Italian emigrants. We saw hundreds of them disappear into the s.h.i.+p, so many it seemed they must have been packed in below by hydraulic pressure, otherwise there wouldn't have been room for them. All headed for the land of the free to build railroads. Englishman wanted to know why there was such heavy emigrant traffic at this particular season. Told him 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 are departing for Alexandria. He admits that he may have overlooked a few minor points of interest, but he more than made up by neglecting to mention Napoleon's tomb or the Moulin Rouge.

Since arriving in Naples this morning Mr. Peasley has arranged with the tourist agency to change his ticket, and he will accompany us to Egypt.