s a "draper's shop," and a drug-store
was a "chemist's," and candies were "sweeties" and a public school was a
"board school" and a boarding-school was a "public school." And I might
be polite and pleasant to these people--persons out of my "class"--but I
must not be too cordial, for if I did, in the eyes of these very people,
I lost caste and they would despise me.

Yes, I was a foreigner; it was a queer feeling.

Coming from America and particularly from democratic Bayport, where
everyone is as good as anyone else provided he behaves himself, the
class distinction in Mayberry was strange at first. I do not mean that
there was not independence there; there was, among the poorest as well
as the richer element. Every male Mayberryite voted as he thought, I am
sure; and was self-respecting and independent. He would have resented
any infringement of his rights just as Englishmen have resented such
infringements and fought against them since history began. But what I am
trying to make plain is that political equality and social equality were
by no means synonymous. A man was a man for 'a' that, but when he was
a gentleman he was 'a' that' and more. And when he was possessed of
a title he was revered because of that title, or the title itself was
revered. The hatter in London where I purchased a new "bowler," had
a row of shelves upon which were boxes containing, so I was told, the
spare titles of eminent customers. And those hat-boxes were lettered
like this: "The Right Hon. Col. Wainwright, V.C.," "His Grace the Duke
of Leicester," "Sir George Tupman, K.C.B.," etc., etc. It was my first
impression that the hatter was responsible for thus proclaiming his
customers' titles, but one day I saw Richard, convoyed by Henry,
reverently bearing a suitcase into Bancroft's Hotel. And that suitcase
bore upon its side the inscription, in very large letters, "Lord Eustace
Stairs." Then I realized that Lord Eustace, like the owners of the
hat-boxes, recognizing the value of a title, advertised it accordingly.

I laughed when I saw the suitcase and the hat-boxes. When I told Hephzy
about the latter she laughed, too.

"That's funny, isn't it," she said. "Suppose the folks that have their
names on the mugs in the barber shop back home had 'em lettered 'Cap'n
Elkanah Crowell,' 'Judge the Hon. Ezra Salters,' 'The Grand Exalted
Sachem Order of Red Men George Kendrick.' How everybody would laugh,
wouldn't they. Why they'd laugh Cap'n Elkanah