Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 36, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 February 1910 — ENGLISH NOT SO SLOW. [ARTICLE]

ENGLISH NOT SO SLOW.

Trieks Played on a Yankee Tenderfoot In tke British Capital. “If there is any Yankee who thinks he can sell wooden nutmegs to a Britisher nowadays he'd better guess again," said an American who returned recently after working in Europe for many years for a New York concern, according to the New York Sun. “Englishmen have profited by lessons taught them until nowadays they do the other fellow. “When I was dumped in London for the first time I went to live in apartments. There was a valet attached to the apartments—a sleek, well-fed individual, whom I got to know familiarly as Henry. I had never enjoyed the luxury of having a gentleman’s gentleman before, and when I found that Henry would look after my clothes for half a crown (62 cents) a week I rejoiced, especially as they needed pressing. —“But no. Henry didn’t press clothes. Still, there was a tailor near by who did, and he would be glad to take them there for me. “I sent out my overcoat and my best suit. Pressing these would have cost me in New York about $1 or $1.50 at the outside. When the clothes came back a bill came with them almost a foot long. Each garment was charged for separately and among the items were: ’Sewing buttonhole, 2d; sewing on button, 6d,’ and so on. The total was 19s 6d ($4.87). “ ‘Well,’ I gasped, ‘take this back to the tailor and tell him it is outrageous.’ I told Henry. He returned and said the tailor said it was correct. AS a result of what I told him Henry went once more to the tailor’s and came back with the bill diminished to $3.62. I was still far from satisfied, but sent the money. After I had done a bit of investigating I found shops where I could have similar work done for 75 cents or sl. The other tailor had looked at the labels in my clothes and ‘soaked’ me because I was a bloomin’ Yank. “One day I entered the gloonjy offices of the apartments and found Henry much .interested in a pile of furs. “ ‘Don’t you want to pick up a fine piece of sable cheap?’ he asked me. ‘This man,’ indicating a low-browed individual and speaking in a whisper, ‘smuggled over a beautiful sable skin from Russia and he has a fine piece of beaver, too. A naval attache wa? looking at them just now and was on the point of buying them, but he was called away. The man is asking £lB, but I think he will take £l4 (s7o).* “Now, I really did not want a sable skin, but I thought it would be a good Investment. To my uneducated eyes the skins looked to be all right in the gloom of a London back room on a February day. “ ‘lf you haven’t the money with you,’ said Henry, ‘I can let you have what you need,’ and that decided me. “So I passed over to the skin merchant 14 golden sovereigns and, finding the address of a real fur dealer, I ordered the goods sent up to him for storage. I fancied that when Henry closed the hall door and stood outside with the skin merchant I heard a chink of coin, but paid no attention to It until a few days later, when I went up to the fur dealer’s to congratulate myself on my purchase. “ tSable? Why, that is not sable,’ said the dealer. ‘lt is a common variety of. musquash—what you call a muskrat in America. What Is it worth? About sls in your money.’ “I had thought I was getting SSOO or S6OO worth of valuable furs. Well, it was hard to pay Henry what I owed him. He protested his Innocence, but I could not help having suspicions. ‘1 could tell you other subsequent experiences that befell me in London, but I finally cut my wisdom teeth and kept my eyes open. But don’t let any American imagine he can go over there and teach those Englishmen any new .skinning devices. They’ve got >most everything in that line patented.’’