"SILENT" ENGLISH
TALK TOO MUCH RETICENT AT FlRST, NBUT GARRULOUS WHEN STARTED. CONSTANT IINDISCRETIONS. The French Senate's view that -worrien cannot keep secrets and aTe therefore disqualified to he solicitors was ci'iticised by a woanan solieitor, who clai-ed that a woman's professional integrity is as g'reat as a man's. In the Daily Mail, Andrew Soutar, the novelist, sugests that it is not women but men who indulge in blazing indiscretions — not only to friends, bqt also to perfect strangers. The Englishman's mouth may be likened to an oyster: it is a difficult job to get him to open it, but once open it remains opens writes Mr. Soutar). He takes pride in the knowledge that other nationals carieature him as a cold, reserved, unfriendly fel low, (he has evolved a tradition out of this appraisement) but if you can stomach his lofty "I beg your pardon" wheri you, a strangfer, have o'bserved that the night is fair, you hqve only to sit hack in your chair and listen. Tolerate his exaggerations, smile with him at his conception of wit, and he will slowly unbolt the sluice- gates of his heart and "give you the works/' The worst of an Englishman whom you may have met for the first time is that he can never forgive you for having learned so much about his supposed secrets — secrets which he himself has imparted. An Jrishman has a reputation for being a most icquacious fellow; he is a deaf and dumb tragedy compared with the cold-as-ice Englishman. Reckless Chatter. The Englishman talks so openly that the wonder is he cpn keep his trade flag fiying. He appears to forget that in these days walls have ears. Even the politicians talk tecklessly outside Parliament. I have heard remarks made in a public place hy a prominent member of Parliament that would have got him lcicked cut of the House if they had been made there. But this free-tongue afflicti/i seems to be part of our political life. Did not we tell the world that /e intended to introduce tariffs? We gave the quick-witted ones outside these shores plenty of time in which to dump all the goods they had.
In the tram, in the ommbUb, m any saloon, we talk and talk to the veriest stranger, without dreaming that he may be an interested person. We take it for granted that because we don't lcnow him he doesn't know us. And this garrulousness is not confined to men of mean intellect. For instance, I have played golf with a solieitor who had met me that day for the first time. My name hadn't been mentioned hy the secretary when the game was suggested, he didn't appear to be curious in that respect. He talked about a case in which he was engaged; he told me of phases of that case. It seemed to me that he was mightily elated because he had a chance t > impress nre with his importance. Professional speculators have told me of the coups they hoped to bring off ; they took it for granted that as I lived far out in the country I wasn't capable of appreciating the significance of what they were saying; and it gave them pleasure to let off steam. Cannot Keep Secrets. ■In the city, in the rush of business, a man will often break off conversation with a caller in order to spe" over the telephone. Naturally he assumes that the gentlemanly instincts of the caller will compel him to close his ears while the telephone conv=rsation is going on, but if the listener should hear something that directly concerns his own interests ae is not likely to be a deaf mute, althought he may be astute enough to play Ihe pait of one. Has a man never talked like this to you: "Of course, you don't lcnow So-and-so, therefore I can tell you." And he goes on to relate a piece of news that may acquaint you with all you want to know in another direction. They say an Englislynan cannot keep a secret. An Englishman cannot keep half a secret. Only in fiction will you find that strong, silent man who kceps a rein on his tongue no matter what the circumstances. In reality the strong, silent man has only to be told that he is so regarded by his acquaintances and straightway he will begin some reminiscence that proves the contrary. If it were possible to probe the inner history of trade we might find that some of the greatest successes and failurcs have been due to the careless dropping of a word here and a word there. The Seeing Ones. One reply to all this may be that no gentleman would dream of listen-ing-in or talcing advantage of a confidence. I am afraid that in the hustle and bustle of modern competition we are not particularly squeamish. It is get on or get out. And the irony of it all is this: men who make their way hy keeping their eyes and ears open and snapping up every opportunity as it comes along compel more admiration from the general throng than those who prefer to remain poor rather than sacrifice their dignity. A public school is an excellent training, but in the world of affairs it is the sharp-witted, keen opportunist who gets the bouquets. I remember two youngsters, intent on joining the Navy, going up to face the "tigers" — the admirals who were to put them through their paces before admitting them to the training college. The first boy called in was a well-schooled, gentlemanly lad, and his qualifications were above reproach — so all of us who lcnew him thought. He saw before him the three admirals seated at the table. He was told to step forward, and as he moved he heard one of the examinerg exclaim in a loud whisper: "Splendid deportment! Finely-built young fellow!" Te. boy's face flushed with pride. He straightened himself like a soldier on parade. The admiral who had made the comment said to him: "Walk up to that fire place and hack, will you?" He walked, returned, and came to attention. The admiral fixed him with a steely eye. "Tell me," he said, "what did you see on the mantelshelf when you walked to the fireplace?" The hoy felt that his honour was be-
ing implrgned. Indignantly he replied: "Nothing, sir, of course; I wouldn't dream of looking!" "Then we ' don't want you in the Navy," said the admiral. "We want men who can keep their. eyes open — men of observation. And I suppose there's a lot in that.
Permanent link to this item
Hononga pūmau ki tēnei tūemi
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/RMPOST19320625.2.3
Bibliographic details
Ngā taipitopito pukapuka
Rotorua Morning Post, Volume 2, Issue 260, 25 June 1932, Page 2
Word count
Tapeke kupu
1,107"SILENT" ENGLISH Rotorua Morning Post, Volume 2, Issue 260, 25 June 1932, Page 2
Using this item
Te whakamahi i tēnei tūemi
NZME is the copyright owner for the Rotorua Morning Post. You can reproduce in-copyright material from this newspaper for non-commercial use under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International licence (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0). This newspaper is not available for commercial use without the consent of NZME. For advice on reproduction of out-of-copyright material from this newspaper, please refer to the Copyright guide.