34
P.dRTIS.dN REVIEW
At that moment the three cornetists in the band stood up and gave
a sad and prolonged blare of the horns. The drummer rolled his sticks, and
a man in swallow tails began to shout.
"La-dies and gentle-men," he shouted, until the microphone was sud·
denly shoved before him. Then, "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "it is
only fitting and proper that at this time, in the midst of such festivities, we
should. have a word or two from the president of the institution which is
running this affair-"
There followed a clapping of hands, of grateful English hands, and
my German companion winked quickly at me and pulled me to one side,
giving me the history of the master-of-ceremonies. The master-of-cere–
monies, a big, heavy looking man jammed in a tight-fitting dress suit and
suffering, I take it, from jaundice, judging by the color of his face, had
been a "radical" small-time politician, until he had married into the family
which ran the chain giving this dance. I found out, subsequently, that
many
concern~
in England have, as their owners or superintendents, men
who in the past have dabbled in politics; and always, upon investigating
further, I learned that these men had been "radicals" or "progressive
liberals." Of course, they carry their "radical"ideas with them into busi–
ness. They are all for social insurance, modern housing-and low wages.
They also are for "socialism." "But we English do things slowly," they
will tell you, smiling.
Meanwhile the master-of-ceremonies had introduced a speaker who
was gettmg a great hand from the employees, the president, a gentleman
of about forty-five, short, well-built and with pitch-black hair.' "Friends,"
he said, holding up a warm, fraternal palm, for silence, "friends," he said,
and then went into a heart-to-heart, sincere, quiet talk about the happy–
family business. He spoke on and on, and I knew the words before he
said them. ". . . we need you and you need us • • . so that we may pull
together ... friendly cooperation ..."
The German girl, winking, was grinning at me.
"Yes, it's everywhere the sru:ne," I said. '
When the president finished, young girls around me clapped their
hands and murmured "Lovely, 0 lovely!" I looked about to see if they
had meant it. They had
I
The one-time radical, the jaundiced fellow who
had married into the owners' family, poked his face into the microphone
and bawled: "For heee's a joll-y goood fel-low •..." and all at once,
like a hoarse, trained, yet untrained chorus, the whole mass of people on
the floor raised their voices and sang,
"For he's a jolly good fel-low
For he's a jolly good fel-low . "
I turned away, going to one side and sitting on a chair. I was
