Letters of Travel (1892-1913) by Rudyard Kipling
page 73 of 229 (31%)
page 73 of 229 (31%)
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length and breadth of the land--from Maine and the upper reaches of the
Saguenay, through the mountains and hot springs of half-a-dozen interior States, out and away to Sitka in steamers. Then they spend money on hotel bills, among ten thousand farms, on private companies who lease and stock land for sporting purposes, on yachts and canoes, bicycles, rods, châlets, cottages, reading circles, camps, tents, and all the luxuries they know. But the luxury of rest most of them do not know; and the telephone and telegraph are faithfully dragged after them, lest their men-folk should for a moment forget the ball and chain at foot. For sadness with laughter at bottom there are few things to compare with the sight of a coat-less, muddy-booted, millionaire, his hat adorned with trout-flies, and a string of small fish in his hand, clawing wildly at the telephone of some back-of-beyond 'health resort.' Thus: 'Hello! Hello! Yes. Who's there? Oh, all right. Go ahead. Yes, it's me! Hey, what? Repeat. Sold for _how_ much? Forty-four and a half? Repeat. No! I _told_ you to hold on. What? What? _Who_ bought at that? Say, hold a minute. Cable the other side. No. Hold on. I'll come down. (_Business with watch_.) Tell Schaefer I'll see him to-morrow.' (_Over his shoulder to his wife, who wears half-hoop diamond rings at_ 10 A.M.) 'Lizzie, where's my grip? I've got to go down.' And he goes down to eat in a hotel and sleep in his shut-up house. Men are as scarce at most of the summer places as they are in Indian hill-stations in late April. The women tell you that they can't get away, and if they did they would only be miserable to get back. Now whether this wholesale abandonment of husbands by wives is wholesome let those who know the beauties of the Anglo-Indian system settle for |
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