until the craze for English households arose. She fell into line. But the haughty servants were most trying at first. For instance, she loved bread spread with molasses. She ate it before the butler once; his face told her what a hideous "break" she had made. She tried to conquer this low taste—never did weak woman fight harder against the gnawings of sinful appetite. At last she gave way, and in secret and in stealth indulged. She was not caught and, encouraged, she proceeded to add one low common habit to another until she was leading a double life. It had its terrors; it had its compensating joys. But before she had gone too far she was happily saved. One morning her maid caught her, and the whole household was agog. The miseries endured in the few following weeks completely cured her. She is now in private, as well as in public, as sound a snob as ever reveled in "exclusiveness."
A Gentleman and His Boots
(From "A Traveler from Altruria")
By William Dean Howells
(The "dean of American novelists," 1837-1919, here gently
satirizes his country. "A Traveler from Altruria" comes to
America expecting to find democracy; at a summer hotel he
makes the mistake of helping the porter to black boots. For
this he is rebuked by a friend.)
"There are a great many things we are willing to
do for ourselves that we are not willing to do for
others. But even on that principle, which I think false
and illogical, you could not be justified. A gentleman is
not willing to black his own boots. It is offensive to
