It is common to find in American novels such expressions as
“great families,” “best society,” “long descended,” and we
also hear of the “exclusiveness” of the “fastidious” American
aristocracy, who think as much of their positions as the
haughtiest _vieille noblesse_ in Europe. “A patrician
crush” is, according to one writer, the synonym of what
another calls “a tony gathering.” These crushes and gatherings
have, however, little of the aristocratic element in their
composition. They are, for the most part, but fashionable
circles in which prevails “the milliner’s estimate of life.” It
is into this society that the young lady makes her “dew-bew,”
as _debut_ is startlingly pronounced in America. In no
other English-speaking community do the plebeians stickle
so for the titles of “gentleman” and “lady.” I was told by
an Irish-American laundress that “the lady what did the
clear-starching got twelve dollars a week.” And I have heard
of a cabman who asked, “Are you the man as wants a gentleman
to drive him to the depot?” During an investigation concerning
the Cambridge, Mass., workhouse, one of the witnesses spoke
of the “ladies’ cell.” And a newspaper reporter writing of a
funeral had occasion to say how “the corpse of the dead lady”
looked. The plebeian who, by dint of hard work, has accumulated
wealth, often aspires to patrician distinction. Tiffany, of
New York, is said to have a pattern-book of crests, from
which the embryo nobleman may choose an escutcheon emblematic
either of his business or of some less worthy characteristic.
A shirt-maker of Connecticut, having made a fortune by an
improved cutting-machine, announced his intention of getting
a coat of arms. An unappreciative commoner asked him if the
design would be a shirt rampant. “No,” he gravely replied, “it
will be a shirt pendant and washerwoman rampant.”--HAROLD
BRYDGES, _Cosmopolitan_.
(128)