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American Notes-Part3_RUDYARD KIPLING(1865-1936)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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travelling-companion of the day. I will not 'do' this country at



all."

And I forgot all about India for ten days while I went out to



dinners and watched the social customs of the people, which are

entirely different from our customs, and was introduced to men of



many millions. These persons are harmless in their earlier

stages--that is to say, a man worth three or four million dollars



may be a good talker, clever, amusing, and of the world; a man

with twice that amount is to be avoided, and a twenty million man



is--just twenty millions. Take an instance. I was speaking to a

newspaper man about seeing the proprietor of his journal, as in



my innocence I supposed newspaper men occasionally did. My

friend snorted indignantly:--"See him! Great Scott! No. If he



happens to appear in the office, I have to associate with him;

but, thank Heaven! outside of that I move in circles where he



cannot come."

And yet the first thing I have been taught to believe is that



money was everything in America!

II



American Politics

I HAVE been watching machinery in repose after reading about



machinery in action.

An excellent gentleman, who bears a name honored in the magazine,



writes, much as Disraeli orated, of "the sublime instincts of an

ancient people," the certainty with which they can be trusted to



manage their own affairs in their own way, and the speed with

which they are making for all sorts of desirable goals. This he



called a statement or purview of American politics.

I went almost directly afterward to a saloon where gentlemen



interested in ward politicsnightlycongregate. They were not

pretty persons. Some of them were bloated, and they all swore



cheerfully till the heavy gold watch-chains on their fat stomachs

rose and fell again; but they talked over their liquor as men who



had power and unquestioned access to places of trust and profit.

The magazine writer discussed theories of government; these men



the practice. They had been there. They knew all about it.

They banged their fists on the table and spoke of political



"pulls," the vending of votes, and so forth. Theirs was not the

talk of village babblers reconstructing the affairs of the



nation, but of strong, coarse, lustful men fighting for spoil,

and thoroughly understanding the best methods of reaching it.



I listened long and intently to speech I could not understand--or

but in spots.



It was the speech of business, however. I had sense enough to

know that, and to do my laughing outside the door.



Then I began to understand why my pleasant and well-educated

hosts in San Francisco spoke with a bitter scorn of such duties



of citizenship as voting and taking an interest in the

distribution of offices. Scores of men have told me, without



false pride, that they would as soon concern themselves with the

public affairs of the city or state as rake muck with a



steam-shovel. It may be that their lofty disdain covers

selfishness, but I should be very sorry habitually to meet the



fat gentlemen with shiny top-hats and plump cigars in whose

society I have been spending the evening.



Read about politics as the cultured writer of the magazine

regards 'em, and then, and not till then, pay your respects to



the gentlemen who run the grimy reality.

I'm sick of interviewing night editors who lean their chair



against the wall, and, in response to my demand for the record of

a prominent citizen, answer: "Well, you see, he began by keeping



a saloon," etc. I prefer to believe that my informants are

treating me as in the old sinful days in India I was used to






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