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The American Claimant by Mark Twain

everybody to everybody. The rich American doesn’t call her cook a lady–

isn’t that so?”

“Yes, it’s so. What of it?”

He was surprised and a little disappointed, to see that his admirable

shot had produced no perceptible effect.

“What of it?” he said. “Why this: equality is not conceded here, after

all, and the Americans are no better off than the English. In fact

there’s no difference.”

“Now what an idea. There’s nothing in a title except what is put into

it–you’ve said that yourself. Suppose the title is ‘clean,’ instead of

‘lady.’ You get that?”

“I believe so. Instead of speaking of a woman as a lady, you substitute

clean and say she’s a clean person.”

“That’s it. In England the swell folks don’t speak of the working people

as gentlemen and ladies?”

“Oh, no.”

“And the working people don’t call themselves gentlemen and ladies?”

“Certainly not.”

“So if you used the other word there wouldn’t be any change. The swell

people wouldn’t call anybody but themselves ‘clean,’ and those others

would drop sort of meekly into their way of talking and they wouldn’t

call themselves clean. We don’t do that way here. Everybody calls

himself a lady or gentleman, and thinks he is, and don’t care what

anybody else thinks him, so long as he don’t say it out loud. You think

there’s no difference. You knuckle down and we don’t. Ain’t that a

difference?”

“It is a difference I hadn’t thought of; I admit that. Still–calling

one’s self a lady doesn’t–er–”

“I wouldn’t go on if I were you.”

Howard Tracy turned his head to see who it might be that had introduced

this remark. It was a short man about forty years old, with sandy hair,

no beard, and a pleasant face badly freckled but alive and intelligent,

and he wore slop-shop clothing which was neat but showed wear. He had

come from the front room beyond the hall, where he had left his hat, and

he had a chipped and cracked white wash-bowl in his hand. The girl came

and took the bowl.

“I’ll get it for you. You go right ahead and give it to him, Mr.

Barrow. He’s the new boarder–Mr. Tracy–and I’d just got to where it

was getting too deep for me.”

“Much obliged if you will, Hattie. I was coming to borrow of the boys.”

He sat down at his ease on an old trunk, and said, “I’ve been listening

and got interested; and as I was saying, I wouldn’t go on, if I were you.

You see where you are coming to, don’t you? Calling, yourself a lady

doesn’t elect you; that is what you were going to say; and you saw that

if you said it you were going to run right up against another difference

that you hadn’t thought of: to-wit, Whose right is it to do the electing?

Over there, twenty thousand people in a million elect themselves

gentlemen and ladies, and the nine hundred and eighty thousand accept

that decree and swallow the affront which it puts upon them. Why, if

they didn’t accept it, it wouldn’t be an election, it would be a dead

letter and have no force at all. Over here the twenty thousand would-be

exclusives come up to the polls and vote themselves to be ladies and

gentlemen. But the thing doesn’t stop there. The nine hundred and

eighty thousand come and vote themselves to be ladies and gentlemen too,

and that elects the whole nation. Since the whole million vote

themselves ladies and gentlemen, there is no question about that

election. It does make absolute equality, and there is no fiction about

it; while over yonder the inequality, (by decree of the infinitely

feeble, and consent of the infinitely strong,) is also absolute–as real

and absolute as our equality.”

Tracy had shrunk promptly into his English shell when this speech began,

notwithstanding he had now been in severe training several weeks for

contact and intercourse with the common herd on the common herd’s terms;

but he lost no time in pulling himself out again, and so by the time the

speech was finished his valves were open once more, and he was forcing

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Categories: Twain, Mark
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