[CHAPTER XV]
THE NEW MASTER WORD
A point has been reached where I feel that I must write a chapter on psychology in relation to present-day affairs. Not that I know anything about it! Heaven forbid! But ever since leaving home I have been hearing about the psychology of this and that until the conviction has grown that an account of this dip into the world will not be complete without a chapter on the latest and most popular of our sciences. And it is not personal psychology that must be dealt with. It is mob-psychology—the most elusive of all subjects—that must be passed under review.
But there is no escape. The thing has been meeting me everywhere. In Toronto a hotel proprietor spoke lightly of the need of understanding the psychology of female help if one is to have good dining-room service. That centered my attention.
In Boston I had luncheon with a man who has made psychology his life-study and is widely known as an authority on the subject. We talked psychology, personal and general, for two blessed hours, and I was so much interested that I almost missed an appointment. I kept the appointment, however, and found that I had arrived "at the psychological" moment.
In New York a movie magnate talked about the psychology of people who patronize grand opera.
At an art auction-room I heard about the peculiar psychology of collectors of art objects, rare books, and et cetera, and of the need of understanding it if one is to deal with them successfully.
Presently I met a dealer in high-class stationery who was almost in despair through need of a phrase that may be used instead of "de luxe"—which is now outworn through too much use, though it was once "an excellent good word before it was ill-sorted." His urgent need was for a word or phrase that would "appeal to the psychology of women." As words are the commodity in which I deal he appealed to me for help. Apparently he had sized up my psychology properly, for I appreciated the compliment and racked my memory for something suitable. Finally I remembered a descriptive phrase that I had noticed in a catalogue while looking at the hangings and furniture of the Kaiser's throne-room, that were offered for sale while I was in New York. It was a melodious phrase that appealed richly to three out of the five senses. When he heard it he thanked me profusely and hurried away to have it patented as a trade name.