Читать книгу Over Here: Impressions of America by a British officer - Hector MacQuarrie - Страница 5

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During a year spent largely in Pennsylvania, with occasional visits to other states, I have found little to criticise, but rather much to admire, much indeed to love. America now means a great deal to me, since it contains so many people that I have learnt to care for, so I want to let my cousins as well as my own countrymen know my thoughts.

From the day that I landed in New York until the present moment, I have been treated with a kindliness that surpasses anything I thought possible in this world. I have been able to see, I hope, where misunderstanding has arisen, and, being a Highland Scotchman, I am able to express my feelings.

I have written more about persons than about places. Sometimes I laugh a little, but never unkindly; and I do this because I realize that American people rather appreciate a joke even at their own expense.

Often I have heard, over here, that it is impossible for an Englishman to see a good joke. A man told me once that the Kaiser was disguising his submarines as jests, with an obvious design. The idea was interesting to me, because if there is one thing that we Britons pride ourselves upon, it is our sense of humour. Of course, the explanation is obvious. Most humour is based upon the surprising incidents and coincidents of domestic relations, and how on earth are we poor British to appreciate specious American humour when we know nothing of American home life, and but little of American society?

When I arrived here first, I regarded the funny page of a newspaper as pure drivel; now I never miss having a good laugh when I read it. I have become educated. Once or twice in these letters I have slanged my own countrymen, but my American friends will not misunderstand, I am quite sure. If I were an American, perhaps I should have the right to criticise the American people.

During these times of stress it is difficult to concentrate upon anything not connected with the war, and so these papers have been written, sometimes sitting in a parlor car, sometimes at peace in my room at Bethlehem, and sometimes at meetings while awaiting my turn to speak. So I apologize for much that is careless in my effort towards good English, hoping that my readers will realize that while I desire to amuse them, still underlying much that is flippant, there is a definite hope that I shall succeed just a little in helping to cement a strong intelligent friendship between the two great Anglo-Saxon nations.

Hector MacQuarrie.

Bethlehem, Pa., November, 1917.