For it should always be remembered that while lecturers are prepared to put up with a good deal of inconvenience and fatigue in the course of their business, it is not hospitable to add to their burdens in those directions. But perhaps I shall better explain by giving an example of what I mean by an ideal host, an actual experience of course, since fiction finds no place in these pages.
I was booked to lecture in a quiet town not far from Edinburgh, and a gentleman wrote to me some time before, offering me hospitality during my stay, and asking me from what direction I should be coming, and at what time I proposed to arrive. I replied that I should be coming from Glasgow, where I had been staying for a few days with a friend, and that I could come when it would be most convenient for him. He appointed a time to meet him at his club in Glasgow, where I changed and dined with him, then we drove to the station. I made to get my ticket, but he stopped me, saying:
“We have a system of ‘guest’ tickets in Scotland, Mr. Bullen, and here is yours,” putting the piece of pasteboard into my hand. Of course we travelled first-class, and at our arrival were met by my host’s carriage and pair. A happier time I never spent than with him and his amiable family, but I was never entertained, I was one of themselves without duties. On the day I was to leave my host took me into his den, and said gravely:
“Mr. Bullen, I pay my servants well on the understanding that none of my guests are to be taxed in tips. You will greatly oblige me, then, if you will refrain from giving any money to anyone in my service. I ask this as a personal favour.”
And having ascertained that my next visit was to be to Hawick, my “guest” ticket was made available to that place, I was driven to the station, accompanied by my hostess, and sent upon my way feeling particularly happy. Now I must hasten to say that such treatment is not, could not be, expected everywhere by me or anybody else. But what a contrast to the behaviour of the man who invites you over an undecipherable signature to be his guest at the Laurels, Edgbaston, say, and leaves you to find your way there at the cost of an expensive cab fare, has nobody to greet you when you arrive, invites ten or a dozen people to dinner, at which you are expected to entertain his guests, and after your return, fagged, from your lecture, expects you to entertain a roomful of people until midnight! I needn’t go on. For, as I say, such people are very rare, but I am sure they are the cause of many lecturers declining all offers of hospitality whatever.
Not quite so bad as the gentleman I have just sketched was a preparatory schoolmaster for whom I lectured once. The time of the lecture and the distance from London both made it possible for me to catch a train from home which gave me an opportunity not to be missed, for at that time my nights at home during the winter were very few, and therefore precious. So upon hiring my cab at the station I made arrangements for it to call for me after the lecture, and thus satisfactorily fixed for my return I went on gaily through a very jolly lecture. When I had finished the headmaster advanced upon me, and taking my arm, said:
“Come on, Mr. Bullen, dinner is all ready, and I am sure you must want it, I do.”
“I’m sorry to say that meals are to me only a necessary evil,” I replied, “but, apart from that, I have ordered my cab to catch the London train, and I see I must be off at once if I am to do so.”
“Oh, nonsense,” he snapped. “It’s absurd for you to talk about returning to London to-night. You mustn’t do it.”
“Very sorry,” I persisted, “but my plans are all made, and my people are expecting me. Had you intimated to me beforehand that you would expect me to stay the night, I should then have told you that I could not under the circumstances.”