I was at the time confidential clerk to the house of Fulton, Brixton &
Co., a firm in Cannon Street, dealing largely in chemicals and chemical
apparatus. Fulton I never knew; he died long before my time. Sir John
Brixton was my chief, knighted, I believe, for services to his party,
or because he was an official in the City during some royal progress
through it; I have forgotten which. My small room was next to his large
one, and my chief duty was to see that no one had an interview with Sir
John unless he was an important man or had important business. Sir John
was a difficult man to see, and a difficult man to deal with when he
was seen. He had little respect for most men's feelings, and none at
all for mine. If I allowed a man to enter his room who should have been
dealt with by one of the minor members of the company, Sir John made no
effort to conceal his opinion of me. One day, in the autumn of the last
year of the century, an American was shown into my room. Nothing would
do but he must have an interview with Sir John Brixton. I told him that
it was impossible, as Sir John was extremely busy, but that if he
explained his business to me I would lay it before Sir John at the
first favorable opportunity. The American demurred at this, but finally
accepted the inevitable. He was the inventor, he said, of a machine
that would revolutionize life in London, and he wanted Fulton, Brixton
& Co. to become agents for it. The machine, which he had in a small
handbag with him, was of white metal, and it was so constructed that by
turning an index it gave out greater or less volumes of oxygen gas. The
gas, I understood, was stored in the interior in liquid form under
great pressure, and would last, if I remember rightly, for six months
without recharging. There was also a rubber tube with a mouthpiece
attached to it, and the American said that if a man took a few whiffs a
day, he would experience beneficial results. Now, I knew there was not
the slightest use in showing the machine to Sir John, because we dealt
in old-established British apparatus, and never in any of the new-
fangled Yankee contraptions. Besides, Sir John had a prejudice against
Americans, and I felt sure this man would exasperate him, as he was a
most cadaverous specimen of the race, with high nasal tones, and a most
deplorable pronunciation, much given to phrases savoring of slang; and
he exhibited also a certain nervous familiarity of demeanor towards
people to whom he was all but a complete stranger. It was impossible
for me to allow such a man to enter the presence of Sir John Brixton,
and when he returned some days later I explained to him, I hope with
courtesy, that the head of the house regretted very much his inability
to consider his proposal regarding the machine. The ardor of the
American seemed in no way dampened by this rebuff. He said I could not
have explained the possibilities of the apparatus properly to Sir John;
he characterized it as a great invention, and said it meant a fortune
to whoever obtained the agency for it. He hinted that other noted
London houses were anxious to secure it, but for some reason not stated
he preferred to deal with us. He left some printed pamphlets referring
to the invention, and said he would call again.