"You will kindly pardon the ignorance of a poor,
red, partly damp American who has shed his eagle feathers but still
has his native curiosity with him!
Why not put a third button in
that bathroom labeled Manservant or Valet or Towel Boy, or something
of that general nature? And then when a sufferer wanted towels,
and wanted 'em quick, he could get them without blocking the wheels
of progress and industry. We may still be shooting Mohawk Indians
and the American bison in the streets of Buffalo, New York; and
we may still be saying: 'By Geehosaphat, I swan to calculate!
- aanyway, I note that we still say that in all your leading comic
papers; but when a man in my land goes a-toweling, he goes a-toweling
- and that is all there is to it, positively! In our secret lodges
it may happen that the worshipful master calls the august swordbearer
to him and bids him communicate with the grand outer guardian and
see whether the candidate is suitably attired for admission; but
in ordinary life we cut out the middleman wherever possible. Do
you get my drift?"
"Oh, yes, sir," he said; "but I fear you do not understand me.
As I told you, it's very simple - so very simple, sir. We've never
found it necessary to make a change. You ring for the waiter or
for the maid, and you tell them to tell the manservant - "
"All right," I said, breaking in.
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