The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1915-04-18

heather Ohe young gentlemen who
bulyrag white women assure me that
we are in the habit Of kicking our
dependents and beating them with
umbrellas daily, would ask for his
chits and probably say something sar-
castle ere he drifted out Of the COM
pound gate IL you nagged or worried
his noble self. He does not know much
about the meaner forms of dignity.
but he is entirely sound on the subject
Of izzat, mad the fact Of his cracking
an azure and Oriental jest with you
in the privacy Of your dressing room
or seeing you at your incoherent worst
when you have an attack uf fever
does not in the least affect his gen.
eral department in public. where he
knows that the honor OF his sahib is
his own honor, and dons a new kum-
merbund on the strength of 1t.
have tried to deal with those
housemads in every possible way. To
sling a blunt annie" or Mary" or
Jane at a girl whose only fault is
that she Is a heavy handed incom-
petent strikes me as rather an insult.
seeing that the girl may have a.
brother. and that IL you had a sister
who was servant you would object
to her being howled at upstairs and
downstairs by her given name. But
only ladies' maids are entitled to their
surnames. They are not nice people
as a caste, and they regard the house,
maids as the chamar regards the
mehter. Consequently I have to call
these girls by their Christian names
and cock my feet upon a chair when
they are cleaning the crate and pass
them in the halls in the morning
as though they didn't exist. Now
the morning salutation Of your kadir
Baksh or my Kadir is performance
which Turveydrop might envy. These
persons don't understand a nod; they
think II IA bad as a wink, i believe.
Respect and courtesy are lost upon
them. and I suppose I must gather my
dressing gown into tail and swear at
them in the bloodless voice affected by
the British female who-have / men,
toned this?--is a highly composite
heather when she comes in contact
with her sister clay downstairs
The softer methods lay one open to
harder suspicious. Not long ago there
was trouble among my shirts. j fan
cied buttons grew on neck bands.
Kadir Baksh and the durzie encour-
aged me in the belief When the lead
colored linen they cannot wash, by
the way, in this stronghold of infidels)
shed its buttons l cast about for
means of renewal. There was house,
maid and she was not very ugly ana
| thought she could sew. ! knew l
could not. Therefore ] strove 10 in
gratiate myself with her. believing
that a little interest. combined with
little capital, would fix those buttons
more firmly than anything else. Sub
sequently, and after an interval-the
buttons were dropping like autumn
leaves-I kissed her. The buttons
were attached at once. SO, unluckily,
was the housemaid, for l gathered
that she looked forward to lifetime
of shirt sewing in an official capacity
and my Revenue Board contemplated
no additional establishment. My shirts
are buttonsOmc, but my character Is
blasted. Oh. l wish I had Kadir
Baksh,
This is only the first instalment of
my troubles. The heather in these
parts do not understand me; so II you
will allow | Will come To you for SYM
pathy from time to time. ! am child
Of calamity.