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his seat. The astonishment of the conductor was immense. How did he get there?

      The conductor was watching the proper entrance, and the man had not passed him. Later, the true explanation came to the conductor, but he hesitated to accuse that man of such crime.

      Anyway, the conductor appealed to the passenger himself. Was his presence a miracle or a sin? The passenger confessed. The conductor requested him to leave the tram immediately. The passenger refused to do so, a halt was called[46], and the police arrived. As usual, they appeared from the ground[47]. At first the sergeant did not believe the conductor’s statement. Myself, in the passenger’s case[48], I would lie. But he was proud, or stupid-one of the two, and he told the truth. The police said that he had to descend immediately and wait for the next tram. Other policemen were arriving from every corner: nowhere to run. The passenger decided get down. He walked to the proper door, but that was not correct. He had mounted the wrong side, he must descend on the wrong side, too. After that the conductor told a sermon from the centre of the tram on the danger of going from the wrong side.

      There is a law in Germany-an excellent law it is-that nobody may scatter paper about the street. An English military friend told me that, one day in Dresden[49], he tore a long letter into some fifty fragments and threw them behind him. A policeman stopped him and explained to him quite politely the law. My military friend agreed that it was a very good law, thanked the man for his information, and said that for the future he would bear it in mind[50]. But the policeman was not satisfied. He offered my friend to pick up those fifty pieces of paper. My friend did not see himself, an English General, on his hands and knees in the main street of Dresden, in the middle of the afternoon, picking up paper.

      The German policeman agreed that the situation was awkward. If the English General cannot accept it there is an alternative: to accompany the policeman to the nearest prison, three miles away. It was four o’clock in the afternoon, the judge probably went away. But the prison cells[51] are very comfortable, and the policeman is sure that the General, after the fine of forty marks[52], will be a free man again tomorrow. The General suggested to hire a boy to pick up the paper.

      The policeman answered that it was not be permitted.

      “I did not think,” my friend told me, “that picking up small pieces of thin paper off greasy stones was the hardest business of mine! It took me nearly ten minutes, and more than a thousand people enjoyed the view. But, anyway, it is a good law, I say.”

      Once I accompanied an American lady to a German Opera House[53]. The spectators in the German Schauspielhaus[54] must take off their hats. Again, this is an excellent law! But the American lady disregards rules made by mere man[55]. She explained to the doorkeeper[56] that she was going to wear her hat. He, on his side, explained to her that she was not: they were a bit angry with one another. I took the opportunity to leave them and buy some things: the fewer people there are mixed in an argument, I always think, the better.

      My companion explained quite frankly to the doorkeeper that it did not matter what he said, she was not going to take any notice of him. He did not answer. He just stood in the centre of the doorway. As I explained, I was buying something, and when I returned my friend had her hat in her hand, and was digging pins into it: I am sure she was thinking it was the heart of the doorkeeper. She did not want to listen to the opera, she wanted to talk all the time about that doorkeeper, but the people round us did not even let her do that.

      Continental Governments[57] have trained their citizens to perfection. Obedience is the Continent’s first law. There is a story of a Spanish king who was nearly drowned because the man whose duty was to dive in after Spanish kings when they fall from the boats had died, and another one had not yet arrived. And I can believe it.

      On the Continental railways if you ride second class with a first-class ticket you are probably liable to imprisonment[58]. What the penalty is for riding first with a second-class ticket I cannot say-probably death, though a friend of mine came very near to fell it.

      He is very honest. He is one of those men who pride themselves because they are honest. I believe he takes a positive pleasure to be honest. He had purchased a second-class ticket, but, by chance, he met a lady acquaintance[59] on the platform, and had gone with her into a first-class apartment. When he arrived to his station, he explained to the conductor everything, and, with his purse in his hand, demanded to know the difference. They took him into a room and locked the door. After that they sent for a policeman.

      The policeman examined him for about a quarter of an hour. They did not believe the story about the lady. Where was the lady? He did not know. They searched the neighbourhood for her, but could not find her. The policeman suggested to search my poor friend for bombs[60]. Fortunately, a Cook’s agent[61], with some tourists, arrived on the platform, and explained in delicate language that my friend was a bit stupid and could not distinguish first class from second. It was the red cushions that had deceived my friend: he thought it was first class, as a matter of fact[62] it was second class.

      But the conductor wanted to know about the lady-who had travelled in a second-class with a first-class ticket. And the man of Cook was clever again. He explained that my friend was also a liar. When he said he had travelled with this lady he was merely boasting. He just wanted to travel with her, but his German was not perfect. So my friend’s reputation was re-established. He was not the gangster-only, apparently, a traveling idiot.

      Not only the foreign man, woman and child, but the foreign dog is born good. In England, if have a dog, you spend much of your time is to drag the dog out of fights, to quarrel with the possessor of the other dog, to explain to irate elderly lady that your dog did not kill her. With the foreign dog, life is a peaceful. When the foreign dog sees a row, tears come to its eyes: the dog hastens to find a policeman. When the foreign dog sees a cat in a hurry, it stands aside. They dress the foreign dog-some of them-in a little coat, with a pocket for its handkerchief, and put shoes on its feet. They have not given it a hat-not yet. When they do, the dog will raise it politely when it meets a cat.

      One morning, in a Continental city, a fox-terrier came across me[63]. After that I felt its teeth. A fox-terrier belonged to a very young lady. The poor girl was shouting all the way. When she looked round and saw all the things that had happened, she burst into tears. An English owner of that fox-terrier normally will jump upon the nearest tram. But, as I have said, the foreigner is born good. Seven different people were writing down her address.

      But I want to talk about the dog. A policeman ran to catch the dog. The delighted dog rushed backwards, it was barking. I told that dog what I thought of him.

      I forgot that I was in a foreign land-said my words in English, they were very loud and clear. The dog stood a yard in front of me, it was listening to me with an expression of ecstatic joy.

      “Where have I heard that song before? Say it again! Oh! say it again, the dear old English oaths and curses!”

      I learnt from the young lady that her dog was an English-born fox-terrier. That explained everything. The foreign dog does not do this sort of thing[64]. The foreigner is born good: that is why we hate him.

Exercises

      1. Выберите правильный вариант:

      1. There is a law

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