They Call Me Carpenter

The beginning of this strange adventure was my going to see a motion picture which had been made in Germany. It was three years after the end of the war, and youd have thought that the people of Western City would have got over their war-phobias. But apparently they hadn t; anyway, there was a mob to keep anyone from getting into the theatre, and all the other mobs started from that. Before I tell about it, I must introduce Dr. Karl Henner, the well-known literary critic from Berlin, who was travelling in this country, and stopped off in Western City at that time. Dr. Henner was the cause of my going to see the picture, and if you will have a moments patience, you will see how the ideas which he put into my head served to start me on my extraordinary adventure. You may not know much about these cultured foreigners. Their manners are like softest velvet, so that when you talk to them, you feel as a Persian cat must feel while being stroked. They have read everything in the world; they speak with quiet certainty; and they are so old old with memories of racial griefs stored up in their souls. I, who know myself for a member of the best clubs in Western City, and of the best college fraternity in the country I found myself suddenly indisposed to mention that I had helped to win the battle of the A rgonne. This foreign visitor asked me how I felt about the war, and I told him that it was over, and I bore no hard feelings, buto fcourse I was glad that Prussian militarism was finished.
(Typographical errors above are due to OCR software and don't occur in the book.)

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