If he met
a lion on the Strand to-day he would take a cab; but if to-morrow,
walking in the same place, he met two lions, he would write a
letter to the Times complaining of the growing prevalence of lions
in the public thoroughfares and placing the blame on the Suffragettes
or Lloyd George or the Nonconformists or the increasing discontent
of the working classes--that is what he would do.
On the other hand, if he met a squirrel on a street in America it
would be a most extraordinary thing. Extraordinary would undoubtedly
be the word he would use to describe it. Lions on the Strand would
be merely annoying, but chipmunks on Broadway would constitute a
striking manifestation of the unsettled conditions existing in a
wild and misgoverned land; for, you see, to every right-minded
Englishman of the insular variety--and that is the commonest variety
there is in England--whatever happens at home is but part of an
orderly and an ordered scheme of things, whereas whatever happens
beyond the British domains must necessarily be highly unusual and
exceedingly disorganizing. If so be it happens on English soil
he can excuse it. He always has an explanation or an extenuation
handy. But if it happens elsewhere--well, there you are, you see!
What was it somebody once called England--Perfidious Alibi-in',
wasn't it? Anyhow that was what he meant.
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