And who is Mr. B.? All that I know of him I find in an Eastern sheet which I owe to the kindness of a friend—The Bangkok Times Weekly Mail. Glancing through this minute and compact little paper, which is as big as any paper ought to be, my eye alighted upon an extract from The North China Daily News, and it is here that Mr. B. shines forth.
A certain dealer, it seems, had received an order for a machine, but, being unable to deliver it, and wishing to avoid the penalties attending a breach of the contract, he had to resort to guile. The following letter to a confederate at once displays him as a Machiavellian and introduces us to that inconvenient thing, a Far Eastern incorruptible:—
"Regarding the matter of escaping the penalty for non-delivery of the Bar Machine, there is only one way, to creep round same by diplomat, and we must make a statement of strike occur our factory (of course big untrue) and please address person on enclosed form of letter, and believe this will avoid the trouble of penalties of same.
"Mr. B. is most religious and competent man, also heavily upright and godly, it fears me useless apply for his signature. Please attach same by Yokohama Office, making forge, but no cause for fear of prison happenings as this is often operated by other merchants of highest integrity.
"It is the highest unfortunate Sir. B. is so godlike and excessive awkward for business purposes."
So there you have Mr. B. Some day, perhaps, he may read this letter and realise how extremely awkward an inflexible standard of morality can make things for one's neighbours. The last sentence of all has a pathetic ring, as of a Utopian throwing up the sponge: "I think much better to add little serpent-like wisdom to upright manhood and thus found good business edifice."
"£1 down secures a —— bicycle for you in time for Whitsuntide."
Advt. in "Yorkshire Observer, June 9."
So if you are in a hurry and want it by next Christmas you had better go somewhere else.