Your United States | Page 7

"Supposing I refuse to talk to that sort of interviewer?" I asked, at the
saloon table.
"The interviews will appear all the same," was the reply.
My subsequent experience contradicted this. On the rare occasions
when I refused to be interviewed, what appeared was not an interview,
but invective.
Let me not be misunderstood. I have been speaking of only one brand

of American interviewer. I encountered a couple of really admirable
women interviewers, not too young, and a confraternity of men who
did not disdain an elementary knowledge of their business. One of
these arrived with a written list of questions, took a shorthand note of
all I said, and then brought me a proof to correct. In interviewing this
amounts almost to genius.... I have indicated what to me seems a
defect--trifling, possibly, but still a defect--in the brilliant organization
of the great national sport of interviewing. Were this defect removed, as
it could be, the institution might be as perfect as the American oyster.
Than which nothing is more perfect.
* * * * *
"You aren't drinking your coffee," said some one, inspecting my cup at
the saloon table.
"No," I answered, firmly; for when the smooth efficiency of my human
machine is menaced I am as faddy and nervous as a marine engineer
over lubrication. "If I did, I shouldn't sleep."
"And what of it?" demanded my particular friend, challengingly.
It was a rebuke. It was as if he had said, "On this great night, when you
enter my wondrous and romantic country for the first time, what does it
matter whether you sleep or not?"
I saw the point. I drank the coffee. The romantic sense, which had been
momentarily driven back by the discussion of general ideas, swept over
me again.... In fact, through the saloon windows could be seen all the
Battery end of New York and the first vague visions of sky-scrapers....
Then-the moments refused to be counted--we were descending by lifts
and by gangways from the high upper decks of the ship down onto the
rocky ground of the United States. I don't think that any American ever
set foot in Europe with a more profound and delicious thrill than that
which affected me at that instant.... I was there!... The official and
unofficial activities of the quay passed before me like a dream.... I
heard my name shouted by a man in a formidably severe uniform, and I
thought, "Thus early have I somehow violated the Constitution of these

States?" But it was only a telegram for me.... And then I was in a most
rickety and confined taxi, and the taxi was full to the brim with luggage,
two friends, and me. And I was off into New York.
At the center of the first cross-roads I saw a splendid and erect
individual, flashing forth authority, gaiety, and utter smartness in the
gloom. Impossible not to believe that he was the owner of all the
adjacent ground, disguised as a cavalry officer on foot.
"What is that archduke?" I inquired.
"He's just a cop."
I knew then that I was in a great city.
[Illustration: BROADWAY ON ELECTION NIGHT]
The rest of the ride was an enfevered phantasmagoria. We burst
startlingly into a very remarkable deep glade--on the floor of it long
and violent surface-cars, a few open shops and bars with
commissionaires at the doors, vehicles dipping and rising out of holes
in the ground, vistas of forests of iron pillars, on the top of which ran
deafening, glittering trains, as on a tight-rope; above all that, a layer of
darkness; and above the layer of darkness enormous moving images of
things in electricity--a mastodon kitten playing with a ball of thread, an
umbrella in a shower of rain, siphons of soda-water being emptied and
filled, gigantic horses galloping at full speed, and an incredible heraldry
of chewing-gum.... Sky-signs! In Europe I had always inveighed
manfully against sky-signs. But now I bowed the head, vanquished.
These sky-signs annihilated argument. Moreover, had they not been
made possible by the invention of a European, and that European an
intimate friend of my own?...
"I suppose this is Broadway?" I ventured.
It was. That is to say, it was one of the Broadways. There are several
different ones. What could be more different from this than the
down-town Broadway of Trinity Church and the crowded sky-scrapers?

And even this Broadway could differ from itself, as I knew later on an
election night.... I was overpowered by Broadway.
"You must not expect me to talk," I said.
We drew up in front of a huge hotel and went into the bar, huge and
gorgeous to match, shimmering with white bartenders and a variegated
population of men-about-town. I had never seen such a bar.
"Two