These elaborate preludes and interludes may,
to the strenuous ever-in-a-hurry American, seem useless and superfluous,
but they serve a good purpose. Like the common courtesies
and civilities of life they pave the way for the speakers,
especially if they are strangers; they improve their tempers,
and place them generally on terms of mutual understanding.
It is said that some years ago a Foreign Consul in China,
having a serious complaint to make on behalf of his national,
called on the Taotai, the highest local authority in the port.
He found the Chinese official so genial and polite that
after half an hour's conversation, he advised the complainant
to settle the matter amicably without troubling the Chinese officials
about the matter. A good deal may be said in behalf of both systems.
The American practice has at least the merit of saving time,
an all important object with the American people. When we recall
that this remarkable nation will spend millions of dollars
to build a tunnel under a river, or to shorten a curve in a railroad,
merely that they may save two or three minutes, we are not surprised
at the abruptness of their speech. I, as a matter of fact,
when thinking of their time-saving and abrupt manner of address,
have been somewhat puzzled to account for that peculiar drawl of theirs.
Very slowly and deliberately they enunciate each word and syllable
with long-drawn emphasis, punctuating their sentences with pauses,
some short and some long.
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