Читать «Лучшие смешные рассказы / Best Funny Stories» онлайн - страница 10

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 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. 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 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. Fortunately, a Cook’s agent, 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 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.