Abroad with the Jimmies by Lilian Bell
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Lilian Bell >> Abroad with the Jimmies
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13 [Illustration:
_Lilian Bell_
Duogravure
From the Painting by Oliver Dennett Grover]
Abroad with the Jimmies
BY
LILIAN BELL,
AUTHOR OF
"THE LOVE AFFAIRS OF AN OLD MAID," "THE EXPATRIATES," ETC.
LONDON:
WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED,
NEW YORK & MELBOURNE.
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO _My Dear Father_, WHOSE HIGH TYPE OF
PATRIOTISM, STEADFAST LOYALTY TO THE GOVERNMENT, AND DEVOTION TO HIS
FAMILY HAVE TAUGHT ME WHEREIN LIE THE IDEALS OF LIFE.
Preface
If the critical public had cared to snub Mr. and Mrs. Jimmie and Bee, I,
who am a fighting champion of theirs, would never have run the risk of
boring it by a further chronicle of their travels. But from a careful
survey of my mail, I may say that the present volume of their doings and
undoings is a direct result of the friendships they formed in "As Seen
by Me," and has almost literally been written by request.
With which statement, as the flushed and nervous singer, who responds to
friendly clappings, comes forward, bows, sings, and retires, so do I,
and the curtain falls on the Jimmies and Bee and me, all kissing our
hands to the gallery.
Contents
CHAPTER
I. Our House-boat at Henley
II. Paris
III. Strasburg and Baden-Baden
IV. Stuttgart, Nuremberg, and Bayreuth
V. The Passion Play
VI. Munich to the Achensee
VII. Dancing in the Austrian Tyrol
VIII. Salzburg
IX. Ischl
X. Vienna
XI. My First Interview with Tolstoy
XII. At one of the Tolstoy Receptions
XIII. Shopping Experiences
CHAPTER I
OUR HOUSE-BOAT AT HENLEY
It speaks volumes for an amiability I have always claimed for myself
through sundry fierce disputes on the subject with my sister, that, even
after two years of travel in Europe with her and Mr. and Mrs. Jimmie,
they should still wish for my company for a journey across France and
Germany to Russia. Bee says it speaks volumes for the tempers of the
Jimmies, but then Bee is my sister, or to put it more properly, I am
Bee's sister, and what woman is a heroine to her own sister?
In any event I am not. Bee thinks I am a creature of feeble intelligence
who must be "managed." Bee loves to "manage" people, and I, who love to
watch her circuitous, diplomatic, velvety, crooked way to a straight
end, allow myself to be so "managed;" and so after safely disposing of
Billy in the grandmotherly care of Mamma for another six months, Bee and
I gaily took ship and landed safely at the door of the Cecil, having
been escorted up from Southampton by Jimmie.
While repeated journeys to Europe lose the thrill of expectant
uncertainty which one's first held, yet there is something very pleasing
about "_going back_." And so we were particularly glad again to join
forces with our friends the Jimmies and travel with them, for they, like
Bee and me, travel aimlessly and are never hampered with plans.
Everybody seems to know that we do not mean business, and nobody has
ever dared to ask whether our intentions were serious or not.
In this frame of mind we floated over to England and had a fortnight of
"the season" in London. But this soon palled on us, and we fell into the
idle mood of waiting for something to turn up.
One Sunday morning Bee and Mrs. Jimmie and I were sitting at a little
table near the entrance to the Cecil Hotel, when Jimmie came out of a
side door and sat down in front of us, leaning his elbows on the table
and grinning at us in a suspicious silence. We all waited for him to
begin, but he simply sat and smoked and grinned.
"Well! Well!" I said, impatiently, "What now?"
You would know that Jimmie was an American by the way he smokes. He
simply eats up cigars, inhales them, chews them. The end of his cigar
blazes like a danger signal and breathes like an engine. He can hold his
hands and feet still, but his nervousness crops out in his smoking.
Finally, exasperated by his continued silence, Bee said, severely:
"Jimmie, have you anything up your sleeve? If so, speak out!"
"Well!" said Jimmie, brushing the cigar ashes off his wife's skirt, "I
thought I'd take you all out to Henley this morning to look at the
house-boat."
"House-boat!" shrieked Bee and I in a whisper, clutching Jimmie by the
sleeve and lapel of his coat and giving him an ecstatic shake.
"Are we going to have a house-boat?" asked Bee.
"We!" said Jimmie. "_I_ am going to have a house-boat, and I am going to
take my wife. If you are good perhaps she will ask you out to tea one
afternoon."
"How many staterooms are there, Jimmie? Can we invite people to stay
with us over night?" demanded Bee.
"You cannot," said Jimmie, firmly. "I said a house-boat, not a house
party."
"I shall ask the duke," said Bee, clearing her throat in a pleased way.
"Can't I, Mrs. Jimmie?"
"Certainly, dear. Ask any one you like."
"If you do," growled Jimmie, who hates the duke because he wears gloves
in hot weather, "I'll invite the chambermaid and the head-waiter of this
hotel."
"We ought to be starting," said Mrs. Jimmie, pacifically, and we started
and went and arrived.
As we were driving to the station I noticed all the way along, and I had
noticed them ever since we had been in London, large capital H's on a
white background, posted on stone walls, street corners, lampposts, and
occasionally on the sidewalks.
"What are those H's for, Jimmie?" I asked. To which he replied with
this record-breaking joke:
"Those are the H's that Englishmen have been dropping for generations,
and being characteristic of this solid nation, they thus ossified them."
I forgave Jimmie a good deal for that joke.
At the pier at Henley a man met us with a little boat and rowed us up
the river, past dozens of house-boats moored along the bank.
The river had been boomed off for the races, which were to begin the
next day, with little openings here and there for small boats to cross
and recross between races. Private house-boat flags, Union Jacks,
bunting, and plants made all the house-boats gay, except ours, which
looked bare and forlorn and guiltless of decoration of any sort. It was
fortunately situated within plain view of where the races would finish,
and by using glasses we could see the start.
Several crews were out practising. One shell which flashed past us held
a crew in orange and black sweaters. We had previously noticed that
there was no American flag on any of the house-boats.
Orange and black! We nearly stood up in our excitement.
"What's your college?" yelled Jimmie, hoping they were Americans.
"Princeton!" they yelled back.
With that Jimmie ripped open a long pole he was carrying, and the stars
and stripes floated out over our shell. The Princeton crew shipped their
oars, snatched off their caps, and responded by giving their college
yell, ending with "Old Glo-ree! Old Glo-ree!! Old Glo-ree!!!" yelled
three times with all the strength of their deep lungs.
That little glimpse of America made Bee and me shiver as if with ague,
while Jimmie's chin quivered and he muttered something about "darned
smoke in his eyes."
"Jimmie," I said, excitedly, "they are rowing toward us to let us speak
if we want to."
Jimmie waved his hand to them and they pulled up alongside. We exchanged
enthusiastic "How-do-do's" with them, although we had never seen one of
them before.
"Are you going to row to-morrow?" asked Jimmie.
"If you are we will decorate the house-boat with orange and black," I
said.
Their faces fell.
"We are only the Track Team," said one. "Princeton has no crew, you
know."
"No crew," I cried. "Why not?"
"Well, we haven't any more water than we need to wash in, and we cannot
row on the campus."
"Too many trees," said another.
"No water," I cried, "then won't you ever have a crew?"
"Not until some one gives us a million dollars to dam up a natural
formation that is there and turn the river into it," said one.
"I'd give it to you in a minute, if I had it, the way I feel now," said
Jimmie.
"Well, don't we send crews over here to row?" asked Bee.
"Cornell sent one, but they were beaten," said the Captain with a grin.
"But you wouldn't be beaten," said Bee, decidedly, with her eye on the
Captain.
"Come to dinner, all of you, to-morrow night," I said, genially.
Mrs. Jimmie looked frightened, but Bee and Jimmie so heartily seconded
my generosity with Jimmie's boat that she resigned herself.
"Wear your sweaters," commanded Bee.
"To dinner?" they said.
"Certainly!" said Bee, decidedly. "That's the only way people will know
we are in it. We'll wear shirt-waists to keep you in countenance."
They accepted with alacrity and we parted with mutual esteem.
"I wonder what their names are," said Mrs. Jimmie, reproachfully.
"And they don't know our boat," I added.
"Hi, there!" Jimmie shouted back, "that's our boat yonder--the _Lulu_."
And with that they all struck up "Lu, Lu, How I love my Lu," at which
Bee blushed most unnecessarily, I thought, and murmured:
"How well a handsome athlete looks with bare arms."
"And bare legs," added Jimmie, genially.
We found so much to do on the house-boat, and Jimmie had brought so much
bunting and so many flags, that Bee volunteered to go back to the Cecil
and have our clothes packed up by Mrs. Jimmie's maid, while we
decorated the house-boat.
The next morning bright and early we rowed down to the landing for Bee.
Such a change had taken place on the Thames in twenty-four hours! There
were hundreds upon hundreds of row-boats bearing girls in duck and men
in flannels, and a funny sight it was to Americans to see fully half of
them with the man lying at his ease on cushions at the end of the boat,
while the girls did the rowing. English girls are very clever at
punting, and look quite pretty standing up balancing in the boats and
using the long pole with such skill.
It may be sportsmanlike, but it cannot fail to look unchivalrous,
especially to the Southern-born of Americans, to see how willing
Englishmen are to permit their women to wait upon them even _before_
they are married!
American women are not very popular with English women, possibly because
we get so many of their Englishmen away from them, and we are popular
with only certain of Englishmen, perhaps the more susceptible, possibly
the more broad-minded, but certain it was that as we rowed along we
heard whispers from the English boats of "Americans" in much the same
tone in which we say "Niggers."
The river was literally alive with these small craft, going up and down,
gathering their parties together and paying friendly little visits to
the neighbouring house-boats, while gay parasols, striped shirt-waists,
white flannels, sailor hats, house-boat flags, and gay coloured boat
cushions, made the river flash in the sunshine like an electric lighted
rainbow.
Jimmie had spared no expense in illuminating and decorating the
house-boat. He had the American shield in electric lights surmounted by
the American Eagle holding in his beak a chain of electric bulbs which
were festooned on each side down to the end of the boat and running down
the poles to the water's edge. A band of red, white, and blue electric
lights formed the balustrade of the upper deck, with a row of brilliant
scarlet geraniums on the railing. The house-boat next to ours was called
"The Primrose," and when they saw our American emblem they sent over a
polite note asking where we got it, and at once ordered a St. George
and the Dragon in electric lights, which never came until the Friday
following, when all the races were over. Another house-boat, three boats
from ours, was owned by a wealthy brewer and had a pavilion built on the
land back of where it was moored and connected by a broad gangplank with
the boat. They used this pavilion for dancing and vaudeville, but
although it was very nice and we were immensely entertained, still we
all decided that it was not much like a house-boat to be so much of the
time on land.
Each morning we would be wakened by the lapping of the water between the
boat and the bank, caused by the early swims of the men from the
neighbouring boats. The weather was just cool enough and just warm
enough to be delightful. They told us that it generally rained during
Henley week, but some one must have been a mascot, and we, with our
usual becoming modesty, announced that it must have been our Eagle. The
English, however, did not take kindly to that little pleasantry, and
only said, "Fancy" whenever we got it off.
The dining-room was too small to hold such a large dinner as we gave
the night we entertained the Princeton Track Team, so we had the table
spread on the upper deck in plain view of the craft on the river and our
neighbours on each side. Jimmie had the piano brought up too, when he
heard that two of them belonged to the Glee Club and could sing.
It seemed such a simple thing to us to take up an upright baby grand
piano that we never thought we were doing anything out of the common,
until we looked down over the railing and saw that no less than fifty
boats had ranged themselves in front of our house-boat, with as much
curiosity in our proceedings as if we were going to have a trained
animal exhibit. There were two English women dining with us, and I
privately asked one of them what under the sun was the matter.
"Oh! It is nothing much," she replied. "We cannot help thinking that you
Americans are so queer."
"Queer, or not!" I replied, stoutly, "we have things just as we want
them wherever we go. If we wanted to bring the punt up here and put it
on the dining-table filled with flowers, Jimmie would let us," to which
she replied, "Fancy!"
The table was very pretty that night. We had orange and black satin
ribbon down the middle of it and across the sides, finishing in big
bows. The centrepiece was made of black-eyed Susans. We women wore
orange and black wherever we could, and the men wore their sweaters as
they had been instructed. The dinner was slow in coming on, so between
courses we got up and danced. Then the men sang college songs, much to
the scandalisation of our English friends on the next boats, who seemed
to regard dinner as a sacrament. Peters, the butler, would lie in wait
for us while we were dancing, to whisper as we careered past him:
"Miss, the fowl is getting cold," or "Miss, the ice cream is getting
warm," but he did it once too often, so Bee waltzed on his foot. Whereat
he limped off and we saw no more of him.
Soon the professional entertainers who ply up and down the river during
Henley week discovered the "Ammurikins," as they called us, and we had
our first encounter that night with the Thames nigger, a creature
painfully unlike that delightful commodity at home. The Thames nigger is
generally a cockney covered with blackening, which only alters his skin
and does not change his accent. To us it sounded deliciously funny to
hear this self-styled African call us "Leddies," and say "Halways" and
say "'Aven't yer, now?" They sang in a very indifferent manner, but were
rather quick in their retorts.
Our large uninvited, but welcome audience, who had drawn so near that
they could not use their oars and only pulled their boats along by the
gunwales of the other boats, laughed at these witticisms rather
inquiringly. Always slightly unconvinced, they seemed to have no inward
desire to laugh, but yielded politely to the requirements, owing to the
niggers' harlequin costume and blackened face.
To the student of human nature there is nothing so exquisitely
ridiculous on the face of the globe as the typical British audience, at
a show which appeals humourously to the intellect rather than to the
eye. For this reason the Princetonians were indefatigable in their
conversation with the niggers, for the electric lights of the _Lulu_
illuminated the faces of our audience, which soon, in addition to the
strolling craft of the river, numbered many canoes from the neighbouring
house-boats, who were attracted by the gaiety and lights, thus forming a
typical river audience, thoroughly mixed, seemingly on pleasure bent,
good humoured, well behaved, polite, stolid, British.
Jimmie is hospitable to the core of his being, and nothing pleased him
better than to keep "open house-boat" for the entire floating population
of the Thames during Henley week. Every afternoon it was particularly
the custom about tea time for boats containing music hall quartettes or
a boatload of Geisha girls to pull up in front of the house-boat and
regale the occupants with the latest music hall songs.
In one end of their boat is a little melodion apparently built for river
travel, for I never saw one anywhere else. They have in addition velvet
collection-boxes on long poles whereby to reach the upper decks of the
house-boat for our coins. These things look for all the world like the
old-fashioned collection-boxes which the deacons used to pass in church.
There was one set of Geisha girls who were masked below the eyes, one of
whom sang what she fondly imagined was a typical American song
calculated to captivate her American audience. She sang through her
nose, the better to imitate the nasal voices which to the British mind
is the national characteristic of the American, and her song had the
refrain beginning "For I am an Ammurikin Girl," telling how this
"Ammurikin Girl" had come to England to marry a title and had finally
secured an Earl, and ending with the statement that she had done all
this "like the true Ammurikin Girl." This song, especially the nasal
part, was received with such ill-concealed joy by our usual stolid river
audience that one afternoon I took it upon myself to avenge our
house-boat family for these truly British politenesses. So I went to the
railing after our audience had thoroughly collected and said through my
nose:
"Won't you please sing that pretty song of yours about the 'Ammurikin
Girl?' You know we are 'Ammurikin girls,' and we do so love the way you
take off our 'Ammurikin' voices."
At the same time I dropped a lot of small silver into their boat without
waiting for the collection-box. I was delighted to see that some of it
went overboard, for their consternation at that and at my having turned
the tables on them put them into such a flutter that they couldn't sing
at all, and they pulled away, saying that they would be back in half an
hour. Our audience, too, suddenly remembered urgent business a mile or
two up the river, and scattered as if by magic.
Jimmie was deeply pleased by this _rencontre_, for the prejudice of the
middle-class Britons (for the sake of occasionally being moderate, I
will say middle class) against all classes of Americans is just about as
deeply rooted and ineradicable as the prejudice of middle-class
Americans against everything that flies the Union Jack. The travelled
upper classes are inclined to be more moderate in their prejudice and to
see fit either for political or social reasons to affect a friendship.
But seriously I myself question if there is a nation more thoroughly
foreign to America than the English.
This, I take it, is because the middle classes of both countries are not
abreast of the times, and take little notice of the trend of events.
They are still influenced by the prejudice engendered by the wars of a
century ago, which has partly been inherited and partly enhanced by
marriages with England's hereditary foes, who take refuge with us in
such numbers.
However, the people could be influenced through their sympathies, and in
the to-be-expected event of the death of England's queen, or a calamity
of national importance on our own shores, the sympathy which would be
extended from each to each, through the medium of the press, would do
more to educate the masses along lines of sympathy between the two great
English-speaking nations than any amount of statecraft or diplomacy. The
people must be taught by the way of the heart, and touched by their
emotions. Their brains would follow.
As it is, the differences still exist. Take, for instance, their
language, from which ours has so far departed and become so much more
pure English, and has been enriched by so many clean-cut and descriptive
adjectives that certain sentences in English and in American will be
totally unintelligible to each other. On one occasion, going with a
party of eight English people to the races, Bee looked out of the car
window at the landscape, and said:
"How thoroughly finished England is. Here we are running through a hill
country where they are so complete and so neat in their landscape that
they even sod the cuts. It is like going through a terraced garden."
It may be that the phrase she used was academic, but I am at least
reasonable in thinking that the average American would know what she
meant. Not one of those eight English people caught even the shadow of
her meaning, and when she explained what she meant by "sod your cuts,"
they said that she meant "turf your cuttings." She replied that
"cutting" with us was a greenhouse term and meant a part clipped from a
plant or a tree. They said the word "cut" meant a cut of beef or
mutton, to which she retorted that we might also use the term "cut" in a
butcher shop, but when travelling in a hill country and looking out of
the train window it meant the mountain cut. They said they never heard
of the word sod, except used as a noun. She replied that she never heard
the word "turf" used as a verb. We continued in an amiable wrangle which
finally brought out the fact which even the most obstinate of them was
obliged to admit, and that is that when traced to its proper root, the
Americans speak purer English than the English.
House-boat hospitality we discovered to be conducted on a very irregular
plan, for it appeared that the casual afternoon caller always meant tea
and sometimes dinner. This is all very well if the people happen to be
agreeable and the food holds out, but even I, the least conservative of
the three women, am conservative about invitations to guests, nothing
being more offensive to me than to be politely forced into a dinner
invitation to people I don't want. Another thing, it kept us constantly
scurrying for more to eat, as house-boat provisions are all furnished
by firms in town, and house-boat owners are expected to let the
purveyors know beforehand how many guests to provide for at each meal.
I like English people very much, but I cannot help observing that some
who are very well born and are supposed to be exceedingly well bred,
take advantage of American hospitality in a way in which they would
never dream of pursuing with their English hosts. For instance,
Americans were very free in remaining so dangerously close to the dinner
hour that we were pushed into inviting them to remain, but never once
did they make it obligatory to invite them to remain over night, while
no less than half a dozen times during Henley week our English friends
said to Jimmie:
"I say, old man, beastly work getting back to town. Can't you put us up
for the night?"
As this occurred when every stateroom was filled, even Bee's sacred duke
being among the number of our guests, these self-invited ones remained
in every instance when they knew that it would force Jimmie to sleep
upon a bench in the dining-room and be seriously inconvenienced. Toward
the end of the week this supreme selfishness which I have noticed so
often in otherwise worthy English gentlemen annoyed me to such an extent
that with one Englishman who had thus insisted upon dispossessing Jimmie
for the second time I resolved to make a test. So I said to him:
"Of course it's a little hard on Jimmie, your way of turning him out of
his stateroom to sleep on the table, so, as turn about is fair play, if
you've quite decided to remain over night, my sister and I will let you
have our room and we will sleep on the benches in the dining-room.
Jimmie doesn't get much sleep you know--we keep it up so late, and of
course you always wake him up when you turn out for your swim at six
o'clock in the morning, so if you will promise not to disturb us until
seven, and go out through the kitchen for your swim, you can have our
room for to-night."
"Oh, I say!" he replied, "that's awfully jolly of you. It _is_ a beastly
shame to turn the old man out of his bed two nights in one week, but
your boat is the only one on the river where a fellow feels at home, you
know. Besides that, I couldn't get back to town before ten o'clock
to-night if I started now, and where would I get my dinner? And if I
wait to get my dinner here, I'd either have to sleep at Henley or be
half the night in getting home. So you see I've got to stay, and thanks
awfully for letting me have your room."
Bee, who was standing near, pushed her veil up and cleared her throat.
She looked at me.
"Did you ever in all your life?" she said.
"No, I never did," I said. "I never, never did."
"Never did what?" said the English gentleman.
"I never saw anybody like you in a book or out of it, but I suppose
there are ten thousand more just as good-looking as you are; just as
tall and well built and selfish."
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