A Fantasy of Mediterranean Travel | Page 6

kindly and generous; but oh, my! how he could and did talk!
There were two men with us who represented a type known to the
Cork's other passengers as "the Impressionists." When they came on
board orders were given in a loud voice as to the disposal of their

luggage, the chauffeurs were asked whether everything had been taken
from the cars, and the travelers then made their way to the chief
steward. After receiving a tip, that personage became satisfied that they
were deep enough in dry goods to entitle them to seats at an officer's
table, which were given them. Their opportunity came next day when
they had donned their "glad rags," and stood in the centre of the
smoking-room. A few minutes before the dinner gong sounded they
drank a Martini, and looked over the heads of the crowd with an air of
conscious superiority. Dinner started, they surrounded themselves with
table waters and Rhine wines, ostentatiously popping corks and making
a great show of "bottlage" for very little money. When they left their
seats they were the men of the ship--in their own estimation; but they
had shot their bolt and could go no further, so they settled down in a
condition of social decay that became very distressing. This recalls an
incident of Thackeray's: he once saw an unimportant looking man
strutting along the deck of a steamer. Stepping up to him he said:
"Excuse me, sir, but are you any person in particular?"
Now we reach the post-card mania. This is the most pernicious disease
that has ever seized humanity since the days of the Garden of Eden, and
in no better place can it be seen at its worst than on a steamer calling at
foreign ports: once it gets a foothold it supplants almost all other vices
and becomes a veritable Frankenstein. It is harder to break away from
this habit than from poker, gossiping, strong drink, tobacco, or even
eating peas with your knife if you have been brought up that way. The
majority of the "Corks" when landing at a port would not have stopped
to say "Good morning" to Adam, to take a peep at Bwana Tumbo's
hides and horns, or to pick up the Declaration of Independence if it lay
at their feet--in their eager rush to load up with the cards necessary to
let all their friends know that they had arrived at any given place on the
map. This is but the first act in the drama, for stamps must be found,
writing places must be secured, pencils, pens and ink must be had,
together with a mailing list as long as to-day and to-morrow. The
smoking-room is invaded, the lounge occupied, and every table, desk
and chair in the writing-room is preempted, to the exclusion of all who
are not addressing post-cards. Although we toiled like electrified

beavers we got behind on the schedule, so that those who did not finish
at Malta had to work hard to get their cards off at Constantinople, and
so on through the trip. The chariot of Aurora would hardly hold their
output at a single port. At the start it was a mild, pleasurable fad, but
later it absorbed the victim's mind to such an extent that he thought of
nothing but the licking of stamps and mailing of cards to friends--who
get so many of them that they are for the most part considered a
nuisance and after a hasty glance are quietly dropped in the
waste-basket. Many had such an extensive collection of mailing lists
that it became necessary to segregate them into divisions; in some cases
these last were labeled for classification, "Atlantic Coast Line,"
"Middle West," "Canadian Provinces," "New England," "Europe," etc.
Again they were subdivided into trades and professions, such as
lawyers, ministers, politicians, stock brokers, real estate agents, bankers
(in jail and out of it), dermatologists and "hoss-doctors." This habit
obtained such a hold on people who were otherwise respectable that
they would enter into any "fake," to gratify their obsession. Some of the
"Corks" did not tour Spain but remained on the ship; many of these
would get up packages of cards, dating them as if at Cadiz, Seville or
Granada, and request those who were landing to mail them at the
proper places, so as to impose on their friends at home. I felt no
hesitancy, after silently receiving my share of this fraud, in quietly
dropping them overboard as a just punishment for this impertinence.
Incidents like this will account in part for the non-delivery of
post-cards and the disappointment of those who did not receive them.
Our Purser had what is known in tonsorial circles as a "walrus" or
drooping moustache; he was plied with so many foolish questions in